


The secret of the woods

by ARMEN15



Category: Bron | Broen | The Bridge
Genre: F/M, Investigation Kidnapping Abduction Family Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-07-03 06:29:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15813345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARMEN15/pseuds/ARMEN15
Summary: A great surprise for Henrik and Saga, they will have to solve a new case,  very personal.English is not my mother tongue, so please signal me small mistakes, I'll correct them.Thanks to Selma Sarah for all the discussions we have about our works.





	1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1 

As usual, no copyright infringement.

 

The call from her Swedish counterpart was quite unexpected for Lillian Larsen.  
The last case had been closed, all paper works done, the prosecutor was now in charge.  
After the usual formalities and greetings, Linn went straight to the point, asking Lillian to go with Henrik Sabroe in Malmo the following day.  
It was a delicate matter and Linn was sure his boss support would be important for Henrik.  
Lillian agreed, although the real reason would be revealed only during the meeting.  
When the Danes entered Linn's office, David, the forensic doctor from Lund, was already there.  
Linn didn't wasted time after they sat.  
“I've had a long talk with the prosecutor regarding Frank Wahlgren. We have proofs about Alice but the prosecutor want to be sure regarding Anna's death.”  
Lillian looked at Henrik; his face lost colour immediately and his hands contracted in his lap.  
It was painful for Henrik to talk about Anna just a few weeks after Saga found she was dead.  
Linn continued.  
“I've asked David to join us because the prosecutor wants to open the grave and perform an accurate examination of the corpse.”  
“No!”  
Henrik stood up, shocked, desperation in his face; his fist went down the desk, hard. It caught a imperfection of the surface and a trail of blood appeared, Henrik not caring.  
“You won’t touch her!”  
He looked at the forensic, the man Saga knew for a very long time.  
“You cannot accept such a request, can you?”  
David lowered his gaze, unable to meet Henrik’s eyes.  
“If it was only me, but it's an order.”  
“Henrik we must. You know the procedure. It has already been decided. You can be sure David will be respectful. I asked his help because Saga trust him so much.”  
“Please Linn, it's my baby, let her rest forever in peace. I cannot desecrate her grave. Lillian, please!”  
His boss was his last chance. Lillian was the only person, apart Saga, that knew all his history, he still had the small socks she gave him when Anna was born to congratulate with the proud parents.  
“I'm sorry, Henrik, it's under Swedish law, we have no authority, nor as parent nor as police.”  
Henrik fell heavily on the chair, tears in his eyes. Lillian put an arm around his shoulders to comfort him. She felt it was too much, too soon for him. Astrid had just returned from hospital with a hole in her leg into a house where her life had been put at risk and Henrik was trying to form a family and cope with Saga's absence.  
“We'll go to the graveyard next Monday”, Linn stated, “I hope you'll be there, Henrik. I see it is not the best moment for you, but we cannot delay the autopsy.”  
David felt really bad for the whole situation; he tried to talk with Henrik.  
“I'm really sorry. I can barely imagine how you feel.”  
“It's Astrid! I cannot tell her about this. It will destroy what we are trying to rebuild.”  
“You could talk with Saga, she sur...”  
Henrik stopped him more brusquely than he intended.  
“She's gone away two weeks ago, she needed time alone. I don't have anyone to talk with. I got only my baby and this will break her heart.”  
Linn stood silent.  
Painful memories awakened, the blazing fire that killed her child and her husband who tried to save the boy. The nights spent awake, the day she took a flacon of pills and put it on the table in front of her.  
She knew too well Henrik’s pain and grief. She knew he need the strength to survive, so she made a suggestion.  
“You could ask Saga to return in time for Monday.”  
Henrik shook his head.  
He couldn’t call her back, it was her decision and it would be a selfish act to find petty excuses to make her return faster than she planned on her own terms.  
He had to face this new ordeal alone, like he faced six years of loneliness and guilt. 

 

The night between Sunday and Monday had been rainy; the ground was wet when the forensic team arrived at the graveyard and set up the tent.  
David has summoned up two expert undertakers, explaining them the delicacy of the situation; it was a police case and the father of the girl had already suffered enough.  
The undertakers started digging and each hit was a fist in Henrik's chest, he looked up at the sky, to a God he had stopped believing in since his life had been destroyed.  
David stood under the tent with his assistant, observing the hole that it was forming.  
He remembered his mother's tale about the grave of his uncle and aunt, down there in Argentina, before his family left their homeland for ever.  
His relatives had been found in a quite deserted area, just a stone placed by someone who wanted them to be found, later, was it one of the solders of the firing squad or somebody passing by who saw the scene, marking their eternal rest.  
The decision to became a pathologist sprang from his mother’s memories, the desire to find justice for the dead.  
“We're close.” said one of the diggers.  
Then a different sound, a hit against wood. Henrik heard it and hid his face in his arm, crying. He wanted to go away, could not bear such a torture, so shortly after Kevin shoot Astrid, wanting to kill her.  
The coffin appeared, the men worked faster to free and lift it up.  
David looked down, it seemed it was made of some simple plain woods, not a typical funeral house coffin.  
Maybe it was just a cover. He prompted the men to go on and asked his assistant to prepare the stroller to take the coffin to the van.  
Five minutes after it was completely exposed and David's suspicions increased.  
He called Linn under the tent and pointed at the coffin.  
“It's strange, too small, too plain.”  
“What did Wahlberg do? Did he built it by himself?”  
“I don't know. Let's see at my office, no words with Henrik for now.”  
“Cover the coffin so he won't see it.”  
Half an hour later the coffin was on a metal examination table and David and his team were ready to open it.  
Henrik sat on a chair in the farther corner, he had remained in silence during the travel in Linn's car. She saw him crying and decided not to disturb him.  
David took photos while his assistant forced the upper side open; as a pathologist, he was prepared for a gory scene, but nothing was comparable to what he found.  
There wasn’t another coffin inside, nor a burned or dismembered body.  
Instead, heavy stones and bones he was sure weren't human.  
David nearly let the camera fell on the floor for the shock.  
“It's not a human body. Linn, Henrik, come here!”  
Henrik heard his name; at first he thought David was calling him to see the remains of Anna and he couldn’t force himself to look.  
Then Linn called him again, a strong emotion in her voice  
“It's not Anna! Come and see.”  
Hentrik stood up, shaking, confusion in his head, his heart exploding in his chest; he had to lean on the closest desk not to fall.  
David went to him and put a hand on his arm, a support, a friendly touch.  
“Stones and animal bones, I'm sure it is not a little girl.”


	2. Chapter 2

Where is my sister?  
I remember a long time spent in a cold truck, the sensation of being in eternal move, the darkness, no sunlight on me, hands and feet bounded, a tape on my eyes. I remember pain everywhere, especially in my stomach. An old plaid to sleep into. The need to go to the bathroom and the truck never stopping to release me. Only a bottle of water and a old sandwich to eat, I counted six of them. Six days? Or three days, twice a day? I do not feel differences between day and night.   
I had to let my bowels go, shame and anger in me.   
I try to move, to asses the boundaries of this space, to understand if I'm really alone, if maybe my sister is with me, restrained like me, I call and nobody answer.   
Then two hands roughly made me stand up, I feel more cold, more fucking cold all around me.   
I'm dragged half standing half kneeling on a metal floor, according to the sound of my steps. Then two arms grab my legs and i loose balance, i fell on something soft and wet and the tape is removed with a painful move and my tears.   
I see only white snow.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3 

Henrik took his phone with trembling hands. Linn had insisted to call a doctor to asses his shock and he refused.  
He had to return home to Astrid soon, she was with an old friend of Alice and her two children, around her age, a convenient school holiday; he couldn’t prevail upon them for long.  
But first an important call, he couldn't wait any more.  
As soon as he entered in his car he breathed deeply and touched the screen.  
Under the little star two numbers, in alphabetical order. He touched the second. Too hard. The phone asked if he wanted to delete it. Never. Never hers. Back to the list. Another try.  
He prayed Saga would answer soon, fearing she had switched it off in the middle of some museum-visiting-day.  
Her voice, enough to make him feel better; in the background sounds of a crowded street.  
“Saga Noren.”  
“It’s me. Anna is not in the grave.”  
“What?”  
“She is not there!” He repeated, giving her time to process the news.  
“How do you know?”  
“They opened the grave for Frank’s trial and it is just stones and strange bones, forensic said animal bones”  
“Which forensic?”  
“Yours, David.”  
“So it is true.”  
“But where is Anna? Where is she buried? “  
“I don’t know, you need to ask Frank.”  
“He’s telling lies, only lies. I can’t face…”  
Henrik’s voice broke.  
Saga heard him sobbing and froze. A sound that like a knife pierced her heart  
She eyed a bench nearby, she had to sit down. Her legs were not strong enough, suddenly her winter coat was too much in the early spring sun, she felt suffocated wearing it.  
His pain become hers.  
She took a sudden decision.  
“I’m coming back, I’ll be in Copenhagen by tonight.” 

Saga drove all day, crossing Holland, Germany and then the last border.  
Her target was far, she was hungry and tired; she bought just a sandwich and a bottle of water at the gas station where she filled the tank. High speed not the best for environmental protection and low emissions.  
The night arrived too soon, she reached the town borders shortly before midnight.  
A fleeting thought, should she let Henrik rest and see him in the morning? Real tiredness or a sort of fear?  
Because she has followed her heart and returned earlier her brain planned?  
Astrid was living there, probably already asleep, sooner or later they had to meet each other, it was inevitable.  
Still there was time to find an hotel for the night. She texted she was close, was he still awake?  
“Please come now.” was his immediate answer.  
Saga put aside her fears and doubts and headed for his house.  
She parked her car behind his; the house was dark, if not for a small light in the living area. She took the suitcase from her car and the keys from her pocket.  
Henrik was half lying on the couch, staring at the silent television screen, barely moving his head when Saga turned the corner of the entrance wall.  
Saga stopped, strangely shy, this was not the way she imagined their reunion would be. To say the truth, she did not conjured ideas in her mind about it, only she had longed a lot for him while away. Twice she was sure she had spotted him in a crowd and was angry her brain was playing tricks on her.  
Saga knew her need would reach a breaking point and then she’d return to Henrik.  
She still remembered the sensation of his lips, the claim she staked on him, something she had treasured in the most hidden place of her soul, and now here he was, the same eyes, the same face, the same hands, a different man. Her man.  
It felt dangerous to be back and ant the same time it felt good,

Saga took off her coat and sat close to Henrik, who remained still, not daring to believe she’d come home so eagerly.  
Her closeness was something he missed, like during the months in prison, and for him Saga she was like a drug, one he’d never recover from.  
She had given him strength to face his ghosts and she was again the only one who could uncover the mistery.  
Her body heath reached his cold frame and he felt he could breathe freely again.  
“I m so glad you’re here.”  
He eventually was able to whisper  
“Me too.”  
She replied with the same low voice.  
They remained silent for a while.  
"I’ll come with you to see Frank."  
"Do you think we’ll get clues? Maybe you’ll read him in a different way?."  
"We have to try."  
"If he let her die, why not use that grave?"  
Saga feared other reasons, too scary to discuss with Henrik. Young girls were valuable goods for some people involved in the traffic of human beings, or worse human organs. 

An alarm from a house nearby and dogs barking woke Henrik up.  
He reacted to the sound and his elbow hit Saga’s head, resting on his chest.  
She protested in her half sleep and straightened up. They had fallen asleep on the couch, the tv clock signalled 3.16.  
Henrik stretched his back, his arm numb under Saga's weight.  
The first time she snuggled into him.  
“Astrid heard it?” Saga asked.  
“She takes some drops to sleep.”  
“We should sleep, too.”  
“Have you travelled a lot yesterday?”  
“I was in Bruxelles. I wanted to go to the Mediterranean. I did a 180 turn.”  
“I'm sorry.”  
“You called.”  
She stood and poured herself a glass of water.  
Henrik had too many things running in his head; he wanted to thank, to apologize, to smile and to cry in the same moment.  
Saga bent to take off her boots, putting them near the entrance door, under the shelf.  
She entered into the main bedroom and looked back to see if henrik was following.  
He turned off the lights and checked the doors; when he closed the bedroom door Saga was undressing, her body silhouetted against the window.  
He went closer, she felt his breath against her neck.  
Saga sighed and turned to face him, her tiredness had vanished, suddenly.  
His eyes shone in the half darkness, her hands went to his hips, grabbing the t shirt and pulling it off his shoulders, hers followed.  
They got undressed in a blink's eye, Saga pushed Henrik to make him fall on the bed, then she was on him, like a hunter on her prey, touching him, feeling every part of his body.  
Henrik was tensed, his hands flat on the sheet to resist the urge to caress her.  
Saga stopped and looked at him, looked into him, took a hand and placed it on her tight.  
“You can touch me.” She whispered, briefly closing her eyes. He was too eager to comply, finally allowed to express his desire.  
His hands roamed on her skin, leaving trails, making goose bumps.  
She was there, she was real, not a memory to recollect every night in a lonely bed.  
She had returned for him, a great gift, a proof of their mutual need.  
They rolled onto the mattress, more than once, not caring who was up or under, just wanting to be close, to feel skin, to melt again, until Saga blocked his hips with her legs and raise her pelvis to show she was ready.  
They didn’t last long, their desire too strong to make the intercourse last.  
Henrik came with a cry of desperation that Saga muffled with her hand.  
After, Henrik collapsed on her and took a few heavy breaths before rolling away. He took her hand between his and soon fell asleep.  
_________________

I have to cook, wash and clean for the bear-man, as I call him, Ole is his real name.  
He’s often out hunting meat for all of us, for long hours.  
I’m alone in the cabin, with nothing to do.  
No Tv, no phone, nothing except some books.  
I read them again and again, I know some parts by memory now.  
i study an old map of Europe and try to understand where I’m forced to live.  
I come to the conclusion we’re very close to the Artic circle. The midnight sun lasts for so long that sometimes I stay awake for two days, so strong the light filters in the cold basement where my bed is.  
Denmark is too far. I’ll never reach it by foot.  
And what can I find there, if my parents are dead?  
I just want to see my sister again


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

The secret room was behind the smallest silos, the one neglected by everybody; me and my sister used it, collecting there dresses and other objects.  
I found the rusty entrance door the day I lost my bracelet in the grass near the silos wall.  
Dad, my real dad, bought it for me, we went to a shop once to have his watch repaired and he asked for two identical bracelets, one for me, one for my sister; she didn’t like it on her wrist, it was heavy, she said, and in the way of her sleeves.  
I kept it on, always, because it was dad's gift, with my name engraved on the plate, family name and my birth date under.  
I still wear it, hidden under the long sleeve of the winter coat I use to protect me from the snow.  
I hate snow. It is so cold here.  
I hate this place, a cabin lost in total loneliness, in the middle of hills and woods without end,  
There are two others cabin here, five adults and me. Nobody never comes here, we're isolated from everybody, except those man speaking a strange language, using a different alphabet.  
I’m a prisoner during the night, forced to sleep in a sort of basement.  
People are strange, a man and a woman in the second cabin are always drunk, they make some alcohol by their own, using rice and other cereals with the smell of rotten things.  
In every cabin guns and weapons, I cannot get to them, I'm sure I could use them. There was a place in my second home where three rifles were always looked up with recommendations never touch them, never get close a gun, never get hurt. But the voice in my head is not related to the place where the rifles were.  
I close my eyes, I concentrate and I see an open kitchen, a large couch, a veranda, a tall man with blue eyes and facial hair.  
“Remember: never touch a gun, it is dangerous.”  
“Why do you touch it?”  
“Because it is my work, I’m a detective and I have to use it.”  
“If I become like you, could I use it?”  
“Yes, but only after a very long time.”  
“I want to be like you.”  
A five year old girl talking with her father, a dead father

I’ve seen twice the Russians arrive, with a young woman in the truck, first time shortly after I arrived here.  
I was collecting dry clothes from the wire between the cabins and got a good glimpse, it was a girl with dark hair, strange eyes, her hands bounded.  
They took her in the third cabin, where Rasmus and Gunnar live. That night all the men stayed there, I was told to prepare food, more than usual, then Ole locked me early in my room.  
The morning after the truck was gone.  
The second time was in winter, it was dark but the light of the truck lights was enough.  
The first truck arrived late in her afternoon and the second, bigger, soon followed. The drivers talked with Ole for a long time. They opened the hatchback of the first and dragged a figure with long blond hair, lifting her up into the second one, which soon left.  
I caught a brief conversation when Rasmus came to speak with Ole, about the high value of a blonde woman.  
So I started keeping my hair dirt, my face too, I wanted to appear ugly: it was quote easy, water was few so we took showers once a moth, especially in winter. I wore all my clothes one over the other to hide my body. I did not want to be moved again. Like those girls, because the language of the Russian was unknown to me, farther than my only hope to get free somehow.  
. .  
______________

Saga woke around eight and headed for the wardrobe to get a clean towel and a bathrobe. She took a long shower, wanting to get off the tiredness of the travel, not the scent of Henrik on her skin. She used one of his shower gel, she wanted to smell like him, a strange sensation, a different way to become one.  
She met Astrid at the kitchen sink, the girl had a orange juice bottle in her hand, a glass in the other.  
“Hallo, Astrid.”  
“You are back! Does dad knows?”  
“He sure does. We slept in the same bed.”  
Astrid seemed not so stupefied to find in her house a woman she saw briefly only twice before, wearing a bathrobe only and asking for some juice.  
Saga reflected about the traumas Astrid suffered in her life, being in the line of fire for two times during the last month would be extremely hard to endure by a lot of people.  
Saga liked her boldness. Memories of herself at that age, against her parents, with Jennifer to protect.  
“Good you’re here, dad is so strange, it’s two days he barely talks with me.”  
“I know. He’ll explain you everything soon.”  
Henrik heard voices and got up, finding Astrid and Saga eating biscuits at the kitchen island. A scene of domestic peace that left him speechless.  
“Dad, Saga is here, are you happy?”  
His voice was somehow forced, hoarse, an effort in speaking.  
“Yes, Astrid, I called Saga, I heed her help. We have to face a serious problem, together.”  
He stopped to get full Astrid’s attention. “Anna’s grave is empty.”  
Astrid’s biscuit fell on the floor and it broke in small pieces, her mouth opened without a sound.  
Saga looked at father and daughter.  
“Astrid, I need to ask you some important questions.”  
Saga was in full detective mode, Henrik let her work without interferences. Astrid glanced at him and understood he was not opposing to the interrogation.  
“When Anna got ill, you two were together?”  
“Yes.”  
“The whole time?”  
“I had to go to school most of the day.”  
“So who was with her?”  
“Franck and Harriet, when Frank had to go to work.”  
“What did Harriet do?”  
“She gave Anna some herbal tea, with no effect, so she wanted Frank to take her to the hospital.”  
“And Frank?”  
“He wasn’t sure it was necessary.”  
Astrid closed her eyes, refusing to remember.  
“Was a doctor called?”  
“Frank told me so, I was at school when the doctor visited.”  
Saga heard Henrik’s muffled cry of pain.  
She imagined his thoughts: if Frank never called a doctor sure he was responsible of her death. But the enigma of the empty grave was still unresolved.  
“When Anna got worse?”  
“I had to leave for school and she was moaning with high fever, I asked Frank to call somebody soon and he swore he’d do it. When I retuned home he told me he had took her to hospital and she had died two hours later.”  
Tears in Astrid eyes, running down her cheeks, so Henrik stood up, Saga was too harsh, he wanted her to stop. He had promised himself never make his daughter cry again after Kevin tried to kill her,  
“Please, Saga”, he pleaded.  
She turned to him, her face concentrated, her body rigid. she was near the point, she was sure.  
“I have to do it.”  
He saw her determination, her decision to find the truth, her sad half smile, asking forgiveness for the inevitable pain.  
Henrik trusted her, not for the first time; she was right, she had to ask.  
“Did you see her dead body?”  
“No, Frank refused to take me to the funeral house. The day after we went to the graveyard and Harriet made a speech over the grave. They didn’t wanted priests around. Anna was already buried.”  
“Are you sure? Did you see the coffin?”  
“No! She was already buried. Frank told Harriet I’d be too distressed to see it.”  
Saga turned to Henrik, all her worst fears confirmed.  
“We need to see Frank and Harriet immediately. I call Linn.”  
The first meeting was inconclusive, Frank refused to say a word. When they left Linn continued, promising Saga to pass swiftly whatever info she could get.  
Harriet had been deeply betrayed by Frank.  
A wolf in a herd of sheep, she sharply defined him when Henrik and Saga questioned her.  
Her memory was not perfect as before so she did not remember clearly about the details over the burial, she was quite sure Frank never spoke about hospitals.  
Saga and Henrik drove back in silence, Henrik afraid to give voice to his deepest thoughts.  
Suddenly Saga turned and stopped in a parking lot.  
“If there is no body, she can be alive.”  
“But where is she?”  
“It was more than two years ago, she cold be everywhere.”  
“We’ll never find her.”  
“We need to start from Frank, we’ll check again his house, computer, everything. We need a lead. I’ll ask Linn for a broader warrant, we’ll return to the village for a deeper search. And we need Astrid.”  
“She’s home with a neighbour, I need to get back.”  
“Lilian can send a car and bring her there, with her presence we can work faster.”  
“She hates that place now.”  
“She’s coming to terms with the abduction. It’s for her sister, she have to help us.”  
Henrik had to accept. 

 

Astrid saw a side of Henrik she never imagined. The efficient detective, .the man who could spend hours in front of a pc, reading mails, files, controlling each part of the house she lived in for a long time.  
Dad and Saga were a team. Determinate, efficient, capable.  
Harriet offered tea, sandwiches and cakes, they nor drank nor ate.  
Astrid was mesmerized in watching them work, sat at the same table, shoulders touching, thinking in synchrony. Henrik was concentrated on Saga only and the way she looked at him was meant to cut off the rest of the world. When Saga put a hand on Henrik's arm to point a particular file he briefly covered it with his, thinking nobody was noticing.  
Astrid was sure they were more than best friends. Best friends don’t use the same bed.  
She resigned to wait, so she took another cup of tea and turned the tv on.  
Henrik found her dozing on the couch late in the afternoon.  
He couldn’t stop, pure adrenaline was running in his body, stronger than his pills had ever been. He bent to caress his child's head and saw something hidden between a cushion and the arm of the couch.  
A phone.  
He woke Astrid, pointing at the object.  
“Is it yours?”  
“No, I think Frank had more than one.”  
“Saga! Come here.”  
Saga’s gloved hand tried to switch on the phone on, it was without charge. She called John asking for en extra shift; an hour later John found the list of calls and started his long working night. 

At home, Astrid observed dad and Saga more carefully.  
He smiled for the first time of the day while cooking dinner, when Saga explained about how good foregin cuisine were.  
She had travelled a lot during her two weeks away, she quoted places Astrid know only in school books.  
Astrid understood her dad knew those places, too, he had toured Europe when he was younger  
Henrik noticed Astrid’s silence, she was like a fish out of water, not understanding the conversation.  
“Once I went to France and Spain with my friends to celebrate we were twenty, we spent two weeks in a old camper, we had lot of fun.”  
“Astrid will sure love Paris, the museums, the paintings, the brasseries.”  
Saga had understood Astrid and got the right words to intrigue her.  
“We could go there this summer, Astrid, imagine your first holiday abroad, what do you think? We could to the sea with Saga, south of France, Italy.”  
Astrid thought it was a moment of impossible joy after a day of madness.  
At home her father was again the caring dad, not the ruthless detective of the afternoon at the village.  
She barely nodded at the holiday project, her head was hurting for the confused feelings inside her; after she ate half her plate she retired early.  
Henrik was puzzled and stared blankly at Saga.  
She briefly rolled her eyes and started to explain him the obvious.  
“It had been tricky for her today, you were in detective mode all time.”  
“I checked on her, I made her eat.”  
“Yes, then you noticed the phone and soon you forget her again.”  
Henrik stopped the table cleaning, Saga was right, he had been too busy in following the illusion is lost daughter was still alive that he neglected the living one.  
He had to apologize, so he knocked at Astrid’s door and remained with her a long time.  
Meanwhile John called, his work was still long to complete, he promised Saga answers in the morning; Lillian had sent Barbara to help him with the pc who had just been delivered at the station.  
Henrik returned and loaded the dishwasher.  
“It’s ok, I explained her how it was important to find proofs today.”  
“Daughter of a detective.”  
“Indeed”, Henrik paused “she asked me about us.”  
“What?”  
“She watched us today, she wanted to know if we are more than friends. I told her yes.”  
“Good.”  
“Are you angry?”  
“No, it is the truth.”


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Frank insists I eat the soup, I am so unwell. My stomach hurts so much and he forces me. The pain increases always after I ate.  
Astrid is at school, I ask Frank to let stay with me and he refuses, telling Astrid her results aren’t good and she cannot miss lessons.  
I'm forced in bed, unable to move, to stand up. Io start having moments of unconsciousness, more and more often, until a day I find myself not in my bed but in a strange room, with a bare bulb as source of light, a small bed with a rotting mattress, a hole to pee into and no windows.  
Frank arrives and gives me bread, cheese and some water. I’m so weak I cannot get up to go against him.  
The place is soundproof, he says, the floor has still some seeds, it's one of the silos that once were full of cereals.  
The pain in my stomach subsides, without that horrible soup. Frank notices I’m feeling better and ties me to the wall with handcuffs and a chain. I can only reach the hole, my own bathroom.  
When the door opens I cannot launch myself at and hit him, the chain is too short.  
He doesn’t answers my questions, says only I can shout as much as I want and nobody will hear me.  
I try the same, maybe our secret room is close, but this place is huge, there are too many abandoned buildings far from the houses, so nobody answers.  
I'm terrified, for myself and for Astrid,  
He laughs at me, tells me I smell like an old wet dog.  
There is smell, I'm sure, if Astrid should see me now….  
I can't say for how long I stay there, and how he takes me out of the village, because suddenly I find myself on a truck. 

I decide it is time to dare. I can no longer wait. One morning I am taking a shower, trying to clean myself with cold water and a bar of soap, when Rasmus enters the bathroom and stares at me. I shout him to go away but he doesn't move. He continues to look at my body. I know I'm changing, my chest and hips are different than before, I have to ask for new clothes. .  
I need to discover where I live now.  
I need to see the distance to the nearest village.  
I have an idea.  
The jeep is always unlocked so I decide Saturday dinner, when they are more drunken than usual, will be the perfect moment to open the driver’s door, while I have to take out the leftovers. For five days the jeep remains unused. Then on Thursday Ole leaves after breakfast and returns with a full load in the middle of the afternoon.  
I resist to go see the kilometres he made, impatience is killing me. I touch my bracelet, praying my parents to give me strength.  
Around 13 km. I can do it. Carefully. I can make a plan.  
I need a map. There is a computer in the third cabin. And I know how to use it. And when.  
When everybody is drunk, like it happens every month when the Russians visit. I’ll grab that occasion.

 

The Russians are coming, Ole says, so I need to be sure the second cabin, the bigger one, will be used instead of mine. I go out to collect potatoes for lunch and I use the knife to cut the rubber water pipe, my cabin will not have water for the time being.  
Ole shouts and swears, but everybody gather in the second cabin.  
I have few minutes to act, after I'll prepare sandwiches, they will eat and nobody will notice my absence for a while.  
I leave the cabin sweating cold, but my steps are fast.  
I enter the third cabin, go straight to the pc, it is already on. Lucky me, I search the name written on the shopping bag full of fresh fruits Ole bought once and I kept as a treasure.  
The distance is right, seven kilometres. I don’t dare to print it, I ask my photographic memory to help me. I enlarge the map to see better the road and then reduce it, controlling the names of the villages around. Further south there is the sign of a police station, five more kilometres to go.  
Frank always used harsh words against the police at the village, and when he kept me in the silos he was ironic in telling me my father pretended to be such a good policeman and would never find me.  
How can my dad find me if he’s dead? I’m too scared to hope.  
I run away to my cabin and write all the details on a small piece of paper hidden in my sock.  
Ole shouts to bring more food, I comply and I see him walking to get more alcohol, he’s already unsteady on his legs. I bring him the tray, I see they are quite drunk already; I tell I forgot something to go back inside. I grab my hat and start to run, as fast as I can. 

______________

John called, he and Barbara spent the night controlling the data. The hospital records of the area didn’t show results for the combination of Anna name, surnames or age at the time of death.  
On the phone Henrik found, there are calls to and from a prepaid number, probably foreigner, impossible to trace the owner; John had located its moves, up and down Sweden, from very north to the Stockholm area, also around 100 km north Malmo and once a few days after Anna's reported death.  
Linn called a meeting in her office after she questioned Frank again, with no results at all.  
“We can ask a psychologist to talk with him.”  
“We don’t need a profile, we need the truth and soon.” Saga replied, rolling the box of snugs in her hand; it was empty, just an habit she kept after quitting them.  
Henrik was loosing faith in the investigation, the prepaid calls would lead to nothing, he was sure. They couldn’t drive all over Sweden hoping to meet the owner of the phone by chance.  
John asked more time to examine Frank's computer.  
Saga wanted to talk again with Harriet, Henrik refused to take Astrid with them again.  
They discovered Harriet met Frank around ten years ago, at a seminar about psychology and assertive behaviour; Frank was one of the moderators and Harriet told him about the village. They remained in touch, Frank visited her once or twice a year, he visibly liked the idea of the community.  
Saga tried to link the man Harriet had known with the one who abducted two girls; she looked at Henrik sat at the table, his gaze fixed on the mug he was holding.  
Harriet continued.  
“One day he called me, his wife died, and he needed a quiet place for his girls. I offered him an apartment first, then they moved in a bigger house after we renovated it.  
“Did he show documents about the girls?”  
“No, we don’t ask those things here, we trust people.”  
“You better reconsider your philosophy. Did you know where he lived before?”  
“As I told you, we don’t ask.”  
“So people could have fake manes here?” Henrik suddenly asked.  
“We expect honesty and mutual respect.”  
“It’s not an answer.”  
Harriet had to admit it was possible.  
“And you never questioned my girls about their past? They spoke Danish, for God’s sake!”  
“I seldom see them, they were at school and kept by themselves a lot.”  
Henrik’s fist came hard on the table, the mug trembled.  
“Because he kidnapped them! They missed their parents!”  
Saga put a hand over his arm, the simple gesture made him breath slower to regain control.  
“I remember he once sais the weather here was milder than the place he grow.”  
“Since his accent has no inflections, probably by purpose, we can assume he lived in the North.”  
Saga stated, while calling John to start another search.  
Back home, Henrik had three pizzas delivered. Neither of them could think straight at the moment,  
Saga went out for a drive “to clear her mind” as she explained, Henrik was chastised by Astrid therapist because he had forgotten an appointment. A restless night followed.  
Barbara did the hard work of creating a map of all the calls. By noon it was done, they were concentrated in a square area of around 50 km in the very north. The biggest town and nearest airport was in Lulea.  
“We need to go there.” Saga stated.  
“It's a large area.” Linn opposed.  
“I want to try, the calls showed someone arrived south and then left, maybe with Anna.” 

 

“It will be really cold up there, we need to pack up warm clothes.”  
“I don’t have anything so warm.” Astrid lamented when Henrik took off his winter equipment from dusted boxes up in the wardrobe: scarves, gloves, hat and a green winter jacket, unused since he and his friends went skiing nearly twenty years before. Astrid reacted at the strong anti moths smell but Henrik tried the clothes, he was still fit to wear them. He took a trolley and started filling it.  
“We have to go shopping for you today.”  
Saga seemed completely taken aback by Henrik’s idea.  
“I don’t need…”  
He interrupted her; it was not his intention to be harsh but they were really pressed for time and he didn’t want to discuss further.  
“Believe me, you cannot go there with your clothes, look at the average temperature up there, here, take my phone. Look at the print screens I’ve done….”  
She had to admit he was right.  
“What can we wear?”  
“Sportive winter clothes, I think the people who live there use sort of ski clothes in cold seasons, We need warm shoes, too, against ice and snow. And the right underwear.”  
Henrik was afraid to force Saga into a change, but the situation needed a drastic decision.  
He offered to pay everything, at the condition they were fast in choosing, when they entered the big department store.  
He feared Saga would object more, he was relieved she found easily a blue outfit with comfortable trousers and a warm jacket, plus an alpine style wool cardigan with patterns of snowflakes and pines. She remained at the mirror, looking at her image in blue for a long time, like she was seeing another woman. And different indeed, she had to admit to herself; the colour matched well with her hair, making also her eyes shine more in the neon lights of the store.  
For a brief moment Henrik imagined Saga clad in a feminine dress, dark green silk, sleeveless, modelling all her curves, then he returned to reality and sighed so loud Saga gave him a puzzled look. It was Alice’s style and Saga would never be Alice.  
Henrik bought new snow shoes for everybody, recommending them to give a try the same evening at home to avoid fastidious blisters. Plus, back packs and telescopic sticks, it would be easier especially if they have to move often and fast.  
He added new pocket lights, one for each, one more powerful for the car with rechargeable batteries.  
Astrid was more exigent, she liked the huge selection of clothes in the shop, she never saw so many things assembled to choose from, like a little child in a candy store.  
“She’s young.”  
Henrik excused her with the annoyed clerk, after the umpteenth pair of trousers she asked to try.  
And she’s indeed a woman, she’s not Saga, he reminded himself.  
Astrid was so like Alice, an artistic spirit, not practical like Henrik was and Anna showed would become.  
Would Saga’s child been more like himself or her, should it have survived?  
Henrik closed his eyes, he could not think about it now, he still had to elaborate that pain, for something that’d never come true.  
He could not press Astrid to hurry up, the situation was enough difficult he only prayed for a fast outcome.  
Saga saved the situation, forcing Astrid to choose faster, when her phone buzzed and Linn requested them to go immediately in Malmo to retry her badge and two letters of presentation .  
It was a weird way to introduce people, in the technology era, but Linn had controlled that in Umea the police chief was still her late husband’s boss when he worked up in Norrland, an man near retirement, but still well respected by everybody for his moral attitude and who himself always shoved great respect for every human being. A man of the past, she told Saga, who still liked a good hand written letter. 

 

Astrid and Saga were nervous for their first flight, or better first and second flight, Saga pointed out, since in Stockholm they had to change plane.  
Henri tried to reassure them, it was the safest way to travel, the weather forecast were good, it would be a too long car drive.  
In the end Saga decided to take a pill to relax and Astrid followed her advice.  
The small airport of Umea was a strong contrast with the hub of Copenhagen and Stockholm.  
They got a taxi to go to the police station where a service car awaited them.  
Linn had cleared their path well with Mads Bomberg, the head commissioner in Umea, who seemed a real Viking, a tall man with a huge beard and long red air, now with traces of white. He was massive, his presence filled the room; Henrik was not a short man but he appeared like a child compared to the colleague.  
Mads was sure over sixty, but still in shape and with a strong handshake.  
"The area is wide and quite deserted, few villages and some cabins in the woods."  
Mads showed on the map Vuollerim, around one hundred km north west.  
“I’ll give you the names of all our colleagues there, I know well al of them. We’re few here, a big scattered family. We support each other in case of need.”  
Then Mads took Saga apart.  
“It is not procedurally correct to involve a teenager in an investigation.”  
“She’s the only one who can recognize her sister, at short notice. Plus, Henrik ‘ll never leave her home alone.”  
“Your boss asked me a special favour, in memory of her late husband, a man form here, a guy I respected a lot. She told me about your strict adherence to rules. I do hope you’ll find your girl and not get yourself in danger.”  
Saga knew it was wrong, dangerous and very wrong, but Henrik needed both.  
Since she went away after the Thormon case she was fighting with her attitude toward rules.  
She was changing, but two weeks were barely enough to left behind the issue of her family.  
She was back in police only for Henrik, the first two days had been so hectic she had not time to think, but during the flights her worries returned in full force.  
She wanted to talk with Henrik and he was not in his best moment.  
In the hotel they had a suite with a room for Astrid; leaving the station early in the afternoon the darkness fell suddenly, it was by far the northern place they ever visited.  
The absence of light casted strange shadows from the street lamps on the walls of their hotel room.  
Saga’s head was spinning, all too fast too soon, she had been in continuous motion for nearly three weeks now, missing stability and order.  
Astrid knocked at the communicating door after dinner; Saga was in her underwear, ready for bed.  
“Henrik is in the bathroom.”  
“I cannot sleep. I’m scared, since dad started asking questions about Anna and the village. And now we're here.”  
“We're here following a lead. We must verify it.”  
“But Anna is dead, Frank told me.”  
“Frank said your parents were dead. We cannot accept his words for granted.”  
“Do you think Anna is alive?”  
Saga was torn between the rational idea Anna was dead, buried somewhere else - because after appendicitis without surgery the outcome was septicemia and then death - and the tiny voice that was telling her to hope, to have faith in the impossible. Astrid was in a state of emotional disorder, she needed therapy, not a travel in the cold with two detectives looking for a miracle.  
“I don't know, nobody saw the body, there are no medical records in hospitals and Frank did strange calls. Logic dictates she can be alive.”  
“If we find her body I cannot bear it. And dad, too.”  
“You're strong, the same for Henrik. This case is difficult but I found you, after so many time, when  
the odds were few.”  
“You did great, dad kept telling me you gave him the greatest gift. He was so sad when you were away. “  
“Henrik had a hard time, better he ...”  
“Astrid, what's wrong?” Henrik voice from the bathroom door distracted Saga, who only later realised she had her first real conversation with the girl that for her lover meant everything,  
“Astrid needed to talk, didn't you?”  
Astrid nodded. An unspoken message passed between the girl and the woman; they had to support Henrik as much as they could.  
“Do you want to talk with me?”  
“No, dad, I'm going to bed now. But I'd like a hug.”  
Henrik approached his daughter, embracing her, his eyes shut for the flood of emotions that was filling him.  
Saga met Astrid's eyes over Henrik's shoulder and smiled.  
Henrik kissed the top of the light brown head.  
“Goodnight dad, goodnight Saga.” Astrid said leaving their room.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Henrik's alarm rang around seven, Saga was already up, her inner clock still set on prison time; with a bathroom only they had to take turns, anyway long before eight they were all at the hotel breakfast.  
Henrik started filling his dish when he noticed his women were observing him.  
“Don't you want breakfast?”  
“I never had it in hotel before.” Saga admitted.  
“But you’re back from a journey, you stayed in hotels.”  
She was nervous, he could feel it; he read her so easily. More than ever now.  
“I had coffee only, breakfast was extra charged. And I don’t like to eat in public.”  
“Dad, I'm hungry.” Between two fires, Henrik took a long breath. Away from home, they relied on him.  
“This is a buffet, you can pick up what you want, try everything.”  
They both seemed still unsure of how to behave, so Henrik handed Astrid an empty dish.  
“Just follow me. Astrid, this is yours, we pass along the table and you tell me what you prefer.”  
Saga copied their gestures, carefully observing how Henrik choose from bowls and large plates; automatically, she took also a slice of cheesecake, getting a questioning look from him.  
“What's wrong?”  
“You don’t like cheese in a cake.”  
“I’'ll put it back.”  
“No! Once you got it…”  
Henrik cut his tongue, his intention not to make her unease; she still missed those basic social skills so natural for him. “It don't mind, I'll eat it.”  
They sat at a table with a wiev of the garden, Astrid devoured her cereal bowl in silence, Henrik happy she wanted to eat.  
“This buffet system is a waste of food.” Saga stated.  
“Maybe, but variety suites people's tastes.”  
“How do they know the amount to offer?”  
“They see the number of guests and the average choices. It's the buffet system.”  
“So if each drinks two glasses of juice, a yogurth, ..”  
“Yes, more or less.”  
Henrik let Saga's brain elaborate the logic of buffet and sipped peacefully his coffee. 

 

They headed North, Saga had marked on the map the area where John connected the phone to the cells. Henrik drove and Saga controlled the road.  
Astrid was watching the landscape, an endless sequel of green pines and white snow, scattered cabins, very small villages, a main road and few intersections for communities Saga said could remain isolated in winter.  
Astrid world had been limited to a village for such a long time that everything was so new and fascinating.  
She took photos with her phone and when they stopped at a coffee shop she took out pencils and paper to draw.  
Henrik and Saga were again concentrated on the search.  
She heard them the previous evening, low voices, muffled moans and a rythmic creaking of the bed that lasted for a while, then silence.  
They were making love, she was sure, dad changed, since Saga was back there was a difference in his smile, more tender, more loving toward the two women he was travelling with.  
“Turn right next crossing, there is a high frequence a few kilometres from here. It seems there is a small village.”  
Virnel, the smallest village of the day, Henrik slowed down then Saga saw the sign of a helicopter base; following that direction the woods suddenly reduced and a large space came into view.  
They arrived at a concrete modern building, a police sign on it.  
They rang the bell, Saga took off her badge and the service orders Linn and Mads had signed.  
A woman sat at a large desk with a big radio station on her left. On her uniform pocket the name Josefine Mortens.  
“Colleagues from south! What a surprise! Would you like some coffee? Tea?”  
Saga’s first impulse was to refuse, but Henrik agreed and so she thought it was better to let him do some small talk. The colleague probably was used to long lonely shifts.  
While Josefine prepared four cups, she told that the base was used mainly for emergency in a large area, there were various landing point always ready, scattered in the region.  
After a coffee surprisingly good, Saga turned to their case.  
“We need to know if this area is used for some illegal traffics. Furs, gold, people.”  
“It's an huge area.”  
“We know,” Henrik added, “ but we saw a strange frequency of phone contacts around here. It seems the user of this phone comes here quite often and when here activates it.”  
“I can ask my colleagues, especially Morten, he's the veteran.”  
The call with Morten was difficult for Saga to understand, they spoke in a local dialect and she resigned to wait until it ended.  
“Morten says there is a place not so far, probably used as a storage, nobody lived there so we never get them in action. We try to monitor but it's too secluded and we're a few.”  
“Can we go there?”  
“Yes. I don't think you'll get something relevant but you can try.”  
“We have two other areas to investigate further.”  
“If you wait half an hour I’ll will go with you, as soon as I got change.”  
Saga turned to Henrik who nodded, better be friendly with the colleagues in such an isolated place. 

The wooden shack appeared unused for a long time. A single room, a canopy, no recent traces in the snow. Henrik moved the soft layer on the surface with a foot to see if there were traces in the ice part under. He doubted how much could be stored into it.  
Saga took pictures, hoping John could find something. Henrik approached what seemed a bench, made with a piece of a fallen tree, close to two rusty oil barrels and some cellophane covering what seemed a mound of rubbish or sawed woods,  
It was impossible to lift it up alone so he walked around it, noticing some garbage, the cover of a snack and orange peels.  
He took the items back to the car and Saga examined them.  
“It’s Russian. This changes prospective.”  
She turned to Josefine.  
“Have you considered Russian links?”  
“Morten once tried to investigate with colleagues of…… but he got nothing. Some eastern trucks do drive up here but we never had troubles with them.”  
Saga leaned on the back seat to speak to Astrid.  
“Did ever Frank talk about Russia at the village?”  
“No.”  
“Did you saw cyrillic newspapers or letters or anything in that language? “  
Negative answer.  
“Do you know how Russian alphabet it?”  
“I’m not stupid!”  
Saga turned to Henrik a little quicker than necessary, her gaze low.  
Astrid’s reaction told her she had been too harsh. The way the girl answered made Saga think about how young kids could be hurt too easily.  
“We report Mads and ask him about cases involving eastern people.”  
“Where is still cyrillic used?” Henrik asked.  
“Former URSS, except the three Baltic republics, Bulgaria, Serbia...”  
“Ok, ok, I got it, we can focus when we’ll know where the snack is sold.”  
Henrik leaned a little on Saga, whispering in her ear.  
“Astrid reacted at your words.”  
“Yes, I have to apologize. Astrid, get out of the car for a minute.” 

_________________

 

Every step is a risk. Every meter away from the cabins a goal.  
I am tired to walk in the snow, hidden by the trees and the mounds of ice and fresh snow along the main road. I try to hear in advance whatever sound and if a car is approaching I dive into the white mattress around me.  
Two cars in about an hour walk.  
I find a path parallel to the road and follow it as much as I can, the snow is pressed and I can walk faster.  
If only there are more sections like that.  
I want to reach the first village before dark, so I can try to go further. I'm afraid to sleep there, because my absence would be noticed and Ole sure has started the search.  
I try to use sprigs to erase my footsteps for the first kilometer, then it becomes too hard to keep an arm behind my back, holding the sprig.  
There was a strange wooden painting in a cabin, a family with words written in a strange alphabet and golden lights over their heads. The child held a cross in his little hands and I imagined it was young Jesus.  
I ask him the courage to go on. It is painful, I'm tired but I have to continue. I want to find my sister again or reunite with mom and dad in heaven. I am ready to die in my attempt.  
The first house of the village come in sight just when I am afraid I have wrong calculated the distances.  
I lower my hat and turn inside out my coat, hoping nobody from the cabins is there looking for me. I see a small restaurant, strong is the temptation to stop and ask for help. My mind is repeating over and over just a word.  
Police. 

 

I can go on. I have to go on.  
A torch is safe in my pockets, it is an hazard to use it in the incoming darkness, I try to avoid it, I eat the last piece of chocolate and drink from the bottle, increasing the frequency of my steps.  
Like a force from another world is pushing me forward.  
I heard a sound and froze, then I see them, a deer and her little one, crossing the road. The deer stops for a moment and stares at me.  
My mother’s face come to mind, just for a second, telling me to go on, so I continue. Faster, I forget everything else until I hear a bell ring and see across the woods the white walls of a church. I run from the church to the police station, whose blue light shine like a star in the late afternoon darkness.  
A tall man in blue uniform opens the door when I knock and let me enter.  
I am in a large room, with three desks under the windows and four chairs against a wall.  
“I am Anna Sabroe.” I say, holding up my wrist with the bracelet. “I’ve been kept prisoner, I’ve got a sister in Malmo.”  
The man seems surprised by my words, he turns around one of the desks, calling someone named Jorgen from another room.  
“Come here! The Danish missing girl is here. You won’t believe!”  
Missing girl? I am reported already missed and Ole is looking for me?  
Not Ole, not Frank. Ole kept me here! Frank had my sister but he was bad.  
I shout my rage full lungs.  
“No, no!”  
“Don’t worry.” The man says, then he prints something and makes me look at it.  
He tells me Danish police wants me; Denmark is home.  
I see myself in the sheet, aged 5 and now, above the photos in capital letters the words “missing since 2009”.  
“Call Umea immediately”, orders Jorgen.

______________

Mads’ son had barely time to lay his hockey training bag on the kitchen floor when his father told him to get the service car from the garage and prepare for a long drive; sometimes being under command of his own father had its negative aspects.  
“It's an emergency, you drive, I have to make calls.”  
“I wanted to eat after training.” A feeble protest.  
“There’s no time, grab something, you’ll eat in the car.”  
They lit the blue light and headed northwest at fast speed.  
The first two calls were service calls, talking again with Jorgen and informing his vice of the developments of the case.  
Then he took a long breath, looked at his son and placed a hand on his shoulder. He felt a rush of love for his grown up boy, so like him, kind and joyful and policeman, too.  
“I’m so proud of you, you know it, don’t you?”  
He got a strange look in reply. His moments of endearment were few, especially with his son.  
“What's up, dad?”  
“I just remembered how you and your sisters are important for me. This call is difficult, it could be a false trace and a family get a big delusion.”  
“The missing girl?”  
“Yes, the father got a blow with the empty grave, I hope it's really her.”


	7. Chapter 7

CH 7

After a long day with no traces from the other places visited, a train crossing in the middle of nowhere and a hill overlooking a small village, where nobody never saw Russians, Saga was reading on her tablet. Henrik was able to sleep after endless turns in bed.  
Another suite, another hotel, another place in her seemingly endless travel.  
Her phone rang so she got up and closed the bathroom door behind her. Mads. She wanted news, it had been a wasted day and Henrik started doubting the idea, while Astrid was getting visibly uncomfortable.  
Mads' voice seemed to fill the narrow tiled room.  
“We've got a girl that could match your search.”  
“Where?”  
“In Burmol. She’s already at the local police station.”  
“It's close to Virnel, we were there yesterday.”  
Mads explained briefly the main facts regarding the girl’s escape.  
“I'm heading there with my son now. The station is in full alert. You should come with the sister.”  
“I'll wake Henrik and Astrid.”  
“See you soon.”  
The line went off and Saga sat on the edge of the tub.  
Was it really Anna? What if Henrik got another delusion?  
Astrid had a difficult day, her leg hurt and Henrik insisted she took a painkiller, she later complained her stomach wasn’t well and refused dinner. The strain for her was harder than for Henrik, more used to cope with pain and grief.  
Was it really Anna?  
Would Henrik be able to deal with a different kind of abduction?  
Mads had talked about kidnapping, sexual abuses, slaver; Anna should be still undeveloped, unless it was paedophilia.  
This could be worse than Astrid, indeed worse. Jennifer's memories sprung to her mind from a place too deep to be comfortable.  
What if Anna was another Jennifer with a dark past? Frank didn't abused sexually of Astrid. Could Henrik cope with that kind of trauma?  
And if he'd ask Saga's help, could she do for Anna what for Jennifer had been impossible?  
Henrik was showing a protective side with Astrid that Saga barely imagined, compared to the collected info about his previous family life.  
Saga has enjoyed the days together, the way he was again the caring man after they first met, not the messed up detective during the Thormon case.  
She needed him and she had to accept to share him.  
She went out of the bathroom and the small light over his head was already on.  
“Who called?”  
“Mads. We need to go. Call Astrid and get dressed, there is a girl to verify.” 

_________

Burmol police station never had such an important case to deal with in half a century, says Jorgen, the oldest of the duo, he tells me to wait until he make some calls.  
Then he reports me and the other man, Nicholas, as I have learned he is named, that the big boss will arrive as fast as he could and that they have called a female colleague because I'm very young.  
Nicholas and Jorgen offers me tea and biscuits and make me sit near a heater, so my clothes will get dry faster.  
They all fuss around me, until Ulla, the colleague, arrives without uniform; she kneels beside me and offers me a slice of chocolate cake she made for her own daughter.  
Three people are looking at me with huge eyes. I'm not used to be the centre of attention.  
I tell them my sister is in danger and Jorgen goes on repeating everything will be ok, then he welcomes his wife with a bag of clean and warm clothes for me, I have to roll the sleeves up because their daughter is older than me.  
The big boss calls and his orders are clear: the station is in red code and all doors and windows must be locked to protect me until he arrives, nobody is allowed to enter. Jorgen is professional, but I see the looks between Nicholas and Ulla, they are unsure of what to do. Ulla changes into her uniform so she can wear the gun belt. 

Two more people in this room makes a crowd. I cannot breathe, it is too much. It was better in the cabin with nobody around, only the forest. A man with a big bear and red hair and a younger version, I imagine father and son.  
The father sits near me, says his name is Mads and asks me if I'm really Anna Sabroe. I show him the bracelet, turning the plate so he reads my surname and birth date.  
“You've got a sister, haven’t you?”  
“Yes, Astrid, she is far from here, I saw a map.”  
“How old is she?”  
“Twenty months older than me.”  
“And your parents?”  
“Dead, a long time ago.”  
“Was your dad a detective?”  
“I think so. Why questions about dad? He's dead.”  
Mads don't answer me and simply nods to Jorgen.  
“Astid is coming here.” He tells me.  
She is too far, it cannot be!  
I stand up, this is too much. Astrid is in Malmo, too far from here.  
“She's with Frank! Is Frank coming here? I don't want to see him, he took me away from my sister.”  
I heard my scream, I see concern over their faces.  
I grab my jacket from the chair, wanting to leave. Ulla comes near me, smiling to calm me.  
“I don't want to be with Frank, he's dangerous!”  
Mads lifts his hand and ask me to listen to him.  
“Your sister is free now, Frank is in prison, sure for a very long time. Astrid will come here with the police, she 's looking for you.”  
His phone receives a text  
“They' re here.”  
A few minutes later the entrance door opens again and I see three new people. A girl, a man and a woman. Astrid! I stared, unbelieving, at my sister.  
She runs to me, we look into each other eyes, we embrace tight, never be parted again.  
Astrid calls my name over and over.  
She's crying but she's so happy, she smiles; I feel she leans onto me a lot, her legs do not support her well, she is thin, fragile.  
She clings to my arm and points at the man behind her. I haven’t registered how he looks like, too concentrated on my sister.  
“Look, Anna, he's alive.”  
He's tall, dark, older, tired, crying without shame, joy in his face.  
He's my father.

_______

Only a few weeks ago Henrik felt he had lost everything, Saga closed the case of his girls and the following day she aborted their child.  
That baby had been for a while his biggest dream, his strongest hope for a future with Saga as a new family.  
Without it, everything fall apart, like the earth was opening so he could follow into a large grave the rest of his family. He wanted to go numb.  
He tried with work, tried with pills, tried with sex, the night he was shot in the leg he believed he was dying to see again his whole family in heaven.  
The day after he was embracing Astrid again, a few days later Saga kissed him as a proof of their bond and now he was again in a passenger seat, Saga at the wheel, to go and see if his other daughter was alive.  
He prayed God with all his heart during the drive, Astrid was enough, had to be enough, but miracles could happen, sometimes. 

Mads and his son drove the Sabroes and Saga back to their hotel.  
Saga was quiet during the drive in Mads’ car. After two short attempts at conversation, Mads concentrated on the road.  
The reunion of Henrik with Anna had been more emotional than the one with Astrid. Henrik hugged his daughters together for a long time, eyes wet with tears.  
Anna had difficulties to believe what Astrid was explaining her about Frank and a shooting and what happened during the last month.  
When Astrid spoke about Sags's role in finding them, Henrik opened up the embrace.  
“Saga, come here and meet Anna.”  
Saga made two steps forward, Astrid took her hand and she did not refused.  
They formed a tight circle, Henrik passing an arm lightly behind Saga's waist.  
“You're the world for me.”, Henrik said, looking at each of them.  
He was now travelling with the girls in their car, Mad's son driving; Saga felt the void, a strange loneliness although she could see the tail lights and knew Henrik was there.  
He was a dad. It was what he wanted, what he needed, what he longed for. For two years the big question had stood between them only in theoretical terms, especially after Alice body was found and he become officially a widow. An available man.  
What if the girls were back?  
They'd be no more a couple, they'd become a family, if she wanted, given that he'd ask her so.  
Could Saga cope with the idea of sharing him?  
Her trial and prison stopped that musing, then she found out the protection failed. Her first thought was incredulity, then came the awareness it would be Henrik’s child.  
The easiest way to avoid the topic was to think he’d see it as a substitute for his girls, not something existing in its own rights.  
And she made the offer, out of nowhere, because she felt it was good. Her doctor tried later to dissect that idea, to make her see the reasons behind that. Saga admitted it was mainly fear to loose him. Better to be considered only the incubator for a baby than to return to the loneliness before Henrik.  
He could find and marry another woman easily, he was charming, polite, good in bed, excellent in kitchen; a woman young enough to give him offspring without making a big fuss on it.  
Love sent her off rails for real, more than at the train tracks, sent her to Malmo to abort.  
After she saw him with his daughters Saga understood he couldn’t help wanting their baby.  
Fatherhood was glued to him, he could be both, father and lover, at the same time. His heart could contain all of them, her jealousy was futile, he still loved her, wanted her, needed her.  
The night porter was at first worried to see the police, then he joined the collective jubil when he heard the big news.  
Mads and his son decided to surveil the place until daylight, sleeping in turn on the lounge couch.  
“So you're four now.” The porter told Henrik.  
“I can get another room.” Saga impulsively proposed, ready to give up their shared bed for the sake of the girls.  
Henrik turned to her, immediate reactions in his face. Surprise, delusion, fear.  
“Why?”  
“So you can stay with the girls ton ...”  
Astrid stopped her.  
“I want Anna with me, my bed is big enough for two.”  
“There’s no need to hide, Saga. I've already told Anna about us.”  
He had decided to be completely honest with Anna, about the presence of a woman in his life; he told Astrid a white lie, delaying the truth.  
No more. 

 

Later the same night, much later, quite early in the morning, after talks and more hugs and fatherly good night kisses, Saga and Henrik remained alone in a silent room.  
Saga took off trousers and cardigan, hoping to get a few hours of sleep. She just brushed her teeth and washed her face.  
Henrik was wide awake, too many emotions running into him.  
He was under the sheets, waiting for Saga to finishe in the bathroom..  
“The girls are ok, I've checked them again. I bet they won't sleep tonight.”  
“You too.”  
“I know, I m too happy. It 's the real end of this nightmare since the grave was opened.”  
“You deserve to have both.”  
He closed his eyes, feeling in every cell of his body a rush of love and happiness he never imagined. And because Saga never gave up. His soul mate, his lover. How much he needed her by his side. But she had surprised him when they had arrived at the hotel, suggesting to rent another room.  
That request left a bad taste in his mouth, like she was ready to leave him again.  
“I did so family stays together.” She explained.  
“I want to use every chance to be with you. I adore my girls, I want to be a real father for them but I need you. You're so important for me. The room was for you or for me?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“You said you can't live with children, but this week with Astrid was good, wasn't it?”  
“Yes.”  
“Do you fear Anna now? So much you cannot make us last?”  
Saga remained silent, the days spent in three weren't bad as she imagined, although she was so concentrated on the case to neglect the importance of everyday interactions they do shared.  
Anna and Astrid were sisters, who thought to have lost each other and were found again. A great luck. Not like herself and Jennifer.  
“Seeing them together I remembered my sister.”  
“I'm sorry, Saga.”  
“I miss her. Her death was not my fault, but she deserved to live.”  
“I know, it' s so easy to loose somebody without realising it.”  
“Lillian told me. Now I know what it means. You have to fight for those you care.”  
Nenrik nodded.  
“Probably I didn't fight enough for my marriage and my family.”  
Saga had no resolutive answers to offer him; he could be right, although the circumstances of the disappearance were so imprevedible that an expert of statistic would have the result of his life if able to find the percentage.  
“Yours was a situation extremely complicated. Lise said that Alice hoped you'd open up and talk.”  
“I imagined things would settle somehow, I was thinking to propose a counsellor then all happened so fast. Like with us.”  
“I wanted to take care of you and I nearly lost you.”  
“We overcome our break up.”  
“Because I find Astrid, what if I failed?”  
He had thought a lot about what could he do in that scenario. Without Saga, daughters and baby.  
Self destruction again? Unconscious suicide attempt? Overdose, this time definitive?  
A chill run through his body. It would have been so easy to drawn once and forever.  
He erased those thoughts simply taking her hand, feeling it real and alive.  
“You didn't fail and it’s the only important thing. Beside, how hard for me to manage two daughters and a toddler all alone.”  
“Maybe not so alone. I’m learning to live with children.”  
“I put too much pressure on you.”  
He had revisited often those moments before going to bed, realising how he focused all his expectations on their baby, forgetting his girls' fate, like his life depended only on who was growing inside Saga.  
Selfish, cruel, not considering Saga's needs.  
“Can you forgive me? Our baby was all I had then.”  
“I know now. If it should happen again, I'll handle it much better.”  
He caressed her hand, slowly. A long breath. Maybe. Who could know God's project for them?  
“We'll have our hands so full with two teens, it will already a big challenge.”


	8. Chapter 8

CH 8

 

Anna and Saga opened the doors of the communicating bathroom at the same time, still in their underwear.  
Facing each other, Anna smiled and stepped back.  
“You go first.” Saga offered.  
“No, I need to shower, I want to be clean for dad.”  
“We have to buy you something new to wear.”  
Anna had tried Astrid's jeans, too long and tight for her. Her frame was different from Astrid, shorter and fatter; Henrik said his mother and his brother weren’t tall like him, so Anna could have inherited their genes.  
“But I’m hungry, I want food.”  
“Good. Come downstairs with me when you're finished. Henrik needs to rest.”  
“Ok, Astrid wants to sleep.”  
They sat at a quiet table in a corner of the breakfast room, Anna trying to understand what the other guests were doing.  
“I never stayed in a hotel before.” Anna declared.  
“It's a buffet, you can try everything.” Saga had to explain what she had just learned and it felt strange and right at the same time. Adults teach children. Mothers help daughters.  
Anna copied Saga, a glass of orange juice, a cup of tea, a plate with eggs and cheese. Anna stopped in front of the display of marmalade jars.  
“Can I get marmalade instead of eggs?”  
“You can get all tastes.”  
When they sat, Anna's plate was a display of coloured spoonfuls and Saga prompted her to copy her own bowl of milk with cereals and berries, good for a child’s growth, she stated.  
Anna wanted to eat and talk.  
“Dad told me a lot about you. He said you're the best detective of Sweden.”  
“I have a good rate of case solved.”  
“I want you to catch those people here and Frank, too. I'm sure he killed my mom, I can't prove it but I’m sure!”  
“If responsible, Frank deserves punishment.”  
“He kept me in a silos before I come here. I tried to count the days, made signs on the walls. I'll show everything, I got a good memory. “  
“Like your father. “  
Anna indeed was more similar to Henrik than Astrid.  
Her resourcefulness, her photographic memory, her strength to survive two years alone.  
A brief thought, could her baby have been similar to Anna?  
Another girl, with hers and Henrik’s combined detective skills and Henrik’s empathy and social appeal?  
That baby was gone, replaced by two teens.  
Henrik had declared his intentions to continue their relationship. Saga was ok with that.  
Steps approaching, Henrik in a green cardigan, looking relaxed.  
“Good morning.”  
“Dad!”  
He was fast in giving Anna a caress, then he kissed her head and smiled at Saga.  
“What do you want to eat?” Anna asked, “I'll get you, sit now. I know how to use buffet.” She cast a glance of complicity at Saga.  
“Thanks, Anna. Astrid is coming soon.”  
He told her his requests for breakfast and sat where Anna wanted him, at Saga's side.  
His hands rested on the table and Saga by impulse covered one with hers. When Anna returned with Henrik's food and tea Saga retracted it, but a thumb caressing her palm meant Henrik appreciated the gesture.  
Henrik was happy. He had understood the real meaning of the daily healing prayer.  
God has listened his pleas and had mercy on him, reuniting his family.  
Mads approached their table with a big cup of coffee and asked them to get ready in half an hour to drive to Umea together.

_______

We're in a town called Umea.  
Mads offers us the apartment over his garage, the one used by his daughter when visiting. He wants us to feel family and an hotel is too impersonal for us.  
Me and Astrid have a lovely bedroom, soft beds, warm duvets and I can't sleep.  
It is too beautiful. Mads’ house is huge, he says this apartment is small, for me it 's a palace worth of a princess.  
My sister sleeps in the other bed, I see how scared she is for a lot of things, her right leg sometimes hurts, she often uses a crutch, I saw the holes of the bullet that pierced her.  
She was stronger than me at the village with Frank and now she is so fragile. So thin. She refused food since I died, she tells me.,  
Yes, I died, Frank told her so. Liar, impostor, assassin.  
How I hate him, with all my heart. He destroyed everything, my mother, my sisterhood, my family. He could have destroyed my father, too.  
Yes, my father, I have a father again.  
Today we talk a lot, we go deeper than the night in the car. Saga and Astrid are in the big house, Saga has to print reports, I think it’s an excuse to leave us alone.  
I explain him my life during the last two years, how terrified I was to be touched by Ole and the other men, to be sold like a piece of meat.  
He listens to me, my small hand in his larger warm one.  
I think in just two days he has more wrinkles on his face and his eyes shine with a dark light,  
but he tells me he's happy, incredibly happy compared with how much he suffered since we disappeared.  
The drugs, the sleeping pills, the meaningless women, the loneliness. He says I deserve to know his life, like I describe him mine.  
And I've got a mother, well sort of, not my birth mother, whose memory is too blurred for now, I need photos and videos and our home to remember her.  
Another mother, a woman dad loves in his own way, his soul mate he says, who's been with him to hell and back.  
She'll tell me her own story when she'll be ready, for now dad is very honest about their bond, because it was Saga who found Astrid, after she aborted my unborn sibling.  
For dad it is still a painful memory, I see in his face.  
For me that's a surprise. Never I imagined I could return home to find a little sister or brother. I’ve thought dad's life frozen for eight years, but he lived, somehow, and met Saga and he clang to that baby when he thought we were dead. He asks me to forgive him when he was tempted to give up our search, thinking that baby was his only future.  
Because it was Saga's, not the result of a one night stand.  
He treasures her and his eyes shine when he talks about her.  
Dad searched for eight years, such a long time for me, I'm just 13, it seems an eternity of pain.  
He is still incredulous I'm real, like I am an illusion that'll vanish. He cries, silent tears at the corners of his eyes. 

______

“I don't know, he told me you were dead. I went for two years on your grave.”  
“You are the oldest, can't you remember Denmark and all the people we knew there? Why we ended up in Sweden and had to learn another language? You never wondered?”  
“Frank said mom and dad were dead!”  
“When I was locked he was angry with me. Once I pretended to be asleep and he spoke about mom. He said she was an algid bitch. He wanted her for himself, wanted mom to divorce.”  
Their argument reached the sitting room where Saga was talking with Linn on the phone. Henrik was in a videoconference with Mads and Lillian at the station.  
Anna was angry, her fists clenched, her body tense.  
Astrid sat on the bed, shocked. She did not recognized her little sister, it was someone else speaking, telling stories she wanted to erase from her mind.  
Anna was merciless, she insisted in telling her everything that happened since Frank parted them.  
Astrid started crying and Anna left the room, marching into the living area and throwing fists at the cushions on the couch. Saga closed her call, texting Henrik to return soon and stared at Anna.  
When the fit of rage subsided the girl sat heavily on the couch.  
“She doesn’t believe me.”  
“About what?”  
“Frank. I try to tell her how evil he is but she does not want to speak about him. I never trusted Frank like she did. He told me that he wanted to get rid of me because Astrid would never betray him.”  
Saga took note of what Anna was saying to report later to Henrik. She feared his reaction at the knowledge Frank wanted to play life or death for his daughters, but he had to know the truth.  
“Astrid has difficulties in accepting her past, she prefers to erase it.”  
“She’s stupid!”  
“She suffered since you've been taken away from her.”  
“I suffered too!”  
“She regressed in a world of her own, her way to escape is different from yours. She dresses up with costumes.”  
“How is it possible?”  
“People deals with traumas in different ways.”  
“What is a trauma?”  
“A severe shock or upsetting experience, which may cause psychological damage.”  
“How do you know all these things?”  
“I read a lot.”  
“I want to learn, too. Can you help me?”  
Henrik arrived to find Saga and Astrid on internet reading about psychology.  
“The girls need to settle their visions about Frank. You get Astrid better than me, go to her.”  
Saga called David about Anna’s story, how she felt ill shortly before Frank sent her north.  
She asked him a medical explanation, quoting all the detail she collected form both girls. A few hours later David produced a possible theory, poisoning with the soup, whose flavour could well conceal dangerous substances, and later recovery when changed food.  
The symptoms of some mushrooms poisoning could be similar to appendicitis, he said, but he could not give a punctual answer without proofs and after such a long time.  
Probably the ultimate abduction was helped by sleeping drops in Anna’s water, administered by Frank.  
Saga decided to ask Linn a deeper psychiatric evaluation of Frank after she’d see David’s report. Every word Frank told Henrik in their long confrontation wasn't true.

 

Mads and his assistant, a woman around forty, were ready to receive Anna’s declaration at the presence of Henrik and Saga.  
Anna was very detailed about people and thing she saw and heard, including the Russians and the few others travellers that used the cabins as a meeting point.  
When she spoke about the two young women bounded anfd forced toi leave on a truck , her voice broke.  
Henrik asked for a pause, but Anna looked at him, eyes wet and voice strong.  
“We have to stop them, dad, or they’ll got other girls. I cannot accept it, I’m safe and somebody else will suffer.”  
Mads and the detectives exchanged a long look.  
Henrik turned to Saga, who had listened in silence.  
“What do you think?”  
“She can explain us the place and identify people.”  
“It is dangerous.” He was afraid to put his family at risk again, .  
“Not if we arrived organized and armed. You and the girls will be safe in Burmol and arrive only when all is over.” Mads decided to call the special team commander and plan the operation.  
Back at the apartment Saga was strangely quiet, Henrik lead her into the kitchen and closed the door.  
“What's troubling you?  
“Anna.”  
“Why?”  
“She wants us to stop those men. Stubborn and determinate.”  
“Yes, I cant believe it. She 's so different from Astrid.”  
“Were they similar as kids?”  
“They are less than two years apart, so at five and seven it was hard to predict the development. But Anna was more mine than Alice's. I thought because Astrid was the oldest and so more used to have Alice for her only.”  
“Anna is so like you. Impressive the resemblance. Astrid is your portrait. Anna is you. Eight years apart and she's so similar. The environment has deep effects in the upbringing of a child, often stronger than genes. In this case she's the exception to the general rule.”  
“That's why you two are going so well? Like you and me?” He added with a tender voice, wanting reassurance now and again that they were an item.  
“It never happened to me with a kid. She'll adapt better than Astrid to her new life.”  
“I hope so. Astrid 's dressing up will be difficult to explain, won't it?”  
“Not to explain, to understand for her. It's a disorder, she's not aware. You must get professional help for her.”  
“I'll do as soon as we 're home.”  
“And Anna could break, too, now she's back. Being no more in danger can cause a sudden awareness all she suffered before. I told you how badly Frank treated her.”  
“He told me he never hurt them.”  
“He has complex psychological issues, he sure is a psychopath, we cannot trust his words, never.”

___________

The stay in this place is longer than I imagined, I’d like to be home soon, my true home.  
Astrid shows me photos of the house.  
I want to see it again. She met some friends we had before, now all grown up, a few have moved.  
Maria is still living three houses from ours, I remember her, we were together at preschool, we played every day in her garden.  
I wonder how it will be to be back, dad says he'll make changes, we need two desks to study in front of the windows, he‘ll buy everything.  
He’s planning other changes, asking our advice. Saga’s, too  
He wants her to live with us, to be a family.  
I think about it before going to bed. Saga’s strange and funny and clever at the same time. But she misses jokes and seldom laughs. My mother had a beautiful laugh, she was always smiling with us and with people.  
Astrid tells me she smiled less with dad, because dad was seldom home.  
I miss my mom now I got my father back.  
Frank’s eyes had a sparkle I was never comfortable with. I had the confirmation when he kept me prisoner. He wanted my mother for himself and she refused. He was angry with her and wanted to punish dad keeping us with him.  
We’ve lost too much, me, Astrid and dad, all the things children do with their parents, the places we could have seen, the holidays we could have had, the games we could have played together.


	9. Chapter 9

CH 9

Mads and his wife Ingrid wanted to celebrate with the Sabroes and Saga in the best restaurant in town.  
Saga tried to oppose, her attitude on eating out never positive, nor lessened by her recent trip, but Ingrid couldn’t be denied. She was the opposite of her husband, short and thin, a little ball of energy in constant motion, caring for her family, a married daughter living in Stockholm, a son and another daughter with a little boy.   
She sat immediately near Saga and showed her family photos, especially of the grandkids and of her youngest daughter, the girl they received from Ucraina when she was nine.   
“They do become like yours. Believe me, there is no difference for me.”  
“She's of Mongolian ancestry, dark haired, not red like the other two.”   
“Yes and I don't care. She's my little girl. You'll see by yourself.”   
Ingrid pointed at Astrid and Anna.  
“I'm not married to Henrik to be their legal stepmother.”   
“You'll become, don’t be afraid. I see how you look at him and he at you. Love runs deep here. You have an already made family, how convenient.”  
“How do you know I'm afraid?”   
“You barely touch them. They need to feel loved and protected, your man hugs them constantly.”  
Saga turned her head toward Henrik and got alerted, seeing he refused wine from Mads, covering his glass with a hand.   
Mads had already drank two glasses and seemed unaffected by the alcohol. Saga decided to keep an eye on Henrik, he had relapsed into drugs - he had confessed her, a painful moment due to what lead to the relapse - she wanted to keep him off every risk.   
After the main courses, a cake was presented with a bottle of champagne.,   
Henrik's hand touched Saga's under the table, searching her help, fearing again to be offered alcohol.  
She tried to think fast but Mads was faster, pouring Henrik a glass and asking him to toast.  
“I‘m off drinking since I stopped pills.”  
“Bullshit, a glass will not harm you. Men drink and aren’t spineless.”   
His wife punched him in the ribs, uses to his jokes.   
“Come on. Drink this one.”   
Mads placed the glass in front of Henrik who took it with trembling hand. His daughters were talking, looking at Astrid’s phone, Saga had no ideas how to help him.   
Henrik looked at the pale golden liquid. An exquisite, well known French brand. The kind he and Alice used to buy for birthdays and special occasions.   
Poison. Danger. Risk.   
A distant memory, a short flash, a night the loneliness of the house was too hard to face and he drank a bottle of white wine, stored in the fridge, throwing up later and waking up with a painful headache.   
Since then he stopped heavy drinking and reverted to drugs and sleeping pills.   
He didn’t want to become addicted again on something.   
Too high the stakes, this time; in a month his life has turned 180° degrees.   
He looked at Mads straight into the eyes.   
“Call me a wimp if you want, but I’ve stopped forever.”   
He pushed away the glass and kept the stare.   
Mads laughed, a large smile that spread in his whole face.  
“Few have the guts to oppose me. You’re good, little boy.”  
Later in the car Saga noticed how nervous Henrik was.   
“What’s wrong?” she murmured, not to disturb the girls, dozing on the back seat.   
“I was close to give in.”  
“Once doesn’t count.”  
She still wasn't good at lies, how easy for him to uncover Saga.  
“It isn’t true.”  
“I know. I was…trying to support you.”   
“Thanks for understanding.”   
If she dared such a lie, she was taking in an extremely serious way his abstinence wanting him to resist for his family.  
Henrik tucked the girls into bed, kissed them good night and returned to the living area, gulping a glass of water with an antiacid. Too much good food, three slices of the cake, he couldn’t resist the temptation.   
Saga left the bathroom clad in a pink towel, dying her hair with a white one.   
She walked along the corridor, the fabric barely covered her hips, her long legs bare.   
She stopped in front of the closet with mirrors doors from top to bottom, raising her arms to wrap her hair in the soft cotton; the pink towel slide from her body.   
Unaware Henrik was watching, she remained naked, putting some rebel curls under the towel.  
Henrik was mesmerized by the sight, he moved toward her, slowly, the thick carpet silencing his steps.   
His reflection entered in the huge mirror, Saga saw him standing behind her, looking at her body.   
Exposed.   
In plain sight, without protection.   
His eyes roamed over her, his face showed appreciation. He remained still, Saga tried to kneel to grab the towel.  
“No. Not now.”  
His tone had something different, tender and strong at the same time.   
“I want to see you.”  
“You already know me.”  
“This is different, we are different.”   
He was right, Saga never had a real “we”. Anton was sex, Jakob was convention. This man was much more, she couldn't loose him, never.  
He traced a finger over her spine, a butterfly touch, enough to make her shiver. His hand reached her tail bone and moved lightly on her right hip; his other hand mirrored the gesture.   
Henrik made a step forward, his shirt briefly brushed against Saga's back.   
Their gazes locked in the mirror.   
Henrik’s hand left her skin and Saga missed the contact, imperceptibly she moved backwards to search for him, then he saw he was unbottoning his shirt, throwing it over her towel. Bare-chested, he closed the distance, Saga felt first his hair on her skin then their bodies collided.   
They remained in silence, looking at Henrik’s hands, moving forward to touch her midriff, then one going higher to caress a breast, the other lower on her abdomen.  
His touch made her feel good; Saga wasn’t repulsed nor disturbed, like her body knew it would be the logical development of their intimacy.   
Saga tried to turn and Henrik stopped her with a low voice, barely a whisper.   
“Wait, patience is a virtue tonight.”   
He was in charge, Saga recognized his need to assess strength and desire, to lead the game for once.   
This game was sweet, Saga never experienced such closeness before the real intercourse.   
Preliminaries were banned, always, her readings taught her a lot about them but she never took pleasure from them.   
He kissed her shoulders, neck, ears, every spot he could reach.  
After long sweet caresses Henrik pressed into her from behind, she felt him ready, she pushed back, wanting to have him, soon.   
He made her turn and walk along the corridor to their bedroom, swiftly closing the door and pushing Saga against the wall.  
Their faces moved closer, he wanted madly to kiss her, to taste her mouth fully; lips met and his tongue soon probed a little, to gain access.  
Saga opened her mouth, slowly, it was a moment of deep connection to share and explore.   
Her hands went to his belt, fumbling with it; Henrik was so lost in kissing to forget his trousers being pushed down with his boxers.   
When both were naked, Saga grabbed his buttocks to pull him to her, moving her hips to show him she was eager to go on.   
With little effort Henrik lifted and placed Saga on the bed, smiling in joining her.   
Saga opened her legs and raised her hips, but he waited, teasing her, more fast touches, light kisses, everything to bring her close to the edge and retreating just a second before the fall.  
She asked him to go all the way, he resisted, wanting to please her first.  
When the need to be joined, basic and raw, urgent and strong, couldn’t be denied he found his haven in her, a hand on the iron frame of the bed for leverage to go deeper, like he wanted to reach her very core.  
She followed his lead, loosing herself to different sensations after how skilfully he had worked on her. In the long time he’d become her best partner for real, the others long forgotten.   
Later, while Henrik was sleeping peacefully, she returned to the corridor to retrieve his shirt and the towels. The girls knew they had sex, although Henrik preferred to use the words making love, but for the first time in her life Saga decided a little privacy was necessary. 

______________

Astrid tells me Saga dresses always the same clothes.   
But she changed for this trip, so I ask Saga why.  
It has been dad, he bought new stuff for this climate. She was comfortable with her old things, she would change it when with holes or worn out.  
Dad doesn’t care what she wears, so why bother for a change? But dad was right in insisting for proper winter clothes.   
Other woman uses dresses to seduce or impress people, Saga tells me she is not worried by that.   
Astrid creates dresses, her book has tissue samples and drawings, she tells me she collected old clothes form the storage at the village, dating back to the 60ties, when Harriet was young.   
My sister used the hidden room as her secret escape since she remained alone, hiding into it for endless afternoons after school.  
I like Saga's honesty. She's got her own style, I want to see her leather trousers and the famous car dad talks a lot about. He cannot drive it, she's terribly jealous of her baby. I hope I can have my own treasures too, my books, my clothes, my computer. 

 

Mads wants me to have a full medical examination, Astrid says she had one too.  
I see dad is not so happy when Mads uses with medical terms too difficult for me, he goes outside in the garden to talk with Saga and I see he gestures a lot, while she tries to keep him quiet.   
They returns and dad sits on the couch with me, saying Saga will stay with me during the examination, it is much better a woman than a father. I protest, I want dad but he insists, saying it is the only things he cannot cope well regarding me; he starts explaining me how man and woman are built different - I can well see it by myself - so it is a matter of human physiology.   
Dad’s cheeks get red, he is so embarrassed, Saga tells him he should prepare a better bees and birds speech; she sits in front of us and reassures me that she had first time that female examination when she was just fourteen so I have nothing to worry about and nothing to be ashamed off. She wants me and Astrid in perfect health and she’ll take care of it with dad. 

 

Saga explains the details of the operation, the Swedish police has mapped the cabins using a drone. They will surround the place with a special team and we will drive the path from the main road only when everyone will be captured and identified.   
If they try to leave by car, there are two checkpoints.   
The police has prepared everything for the day after tomorrow. We have to leave Umea and stay inside Burmol’s police station for a night, Jonas had prepared an emergency accommodation for us, the special team has set up a camp.  
Dad asks me again if I'm sure and I nod, I have to do this, then I'll leave this place for ever.   
Saga is serious, she tells me nobody obliges me, she doesn’t want to worsen my traumas, I can hold back whenever I want.

__________

Saga talked a lot with the girls during the travel. Anna was worried about school, having missed regular classes for two years.   
Saga clamed her easily, suggesting to discuss with her future director a way to test her preparation and in case start with private lessons.   
Henrik agreed, glad for her ideas and cleverness regarding the topic.  
He should have imagined it by himself, but he was mostly stupefied about Anna’s readiness to go back to normal soon.  
For Anna it meant school, like for Saga it had meant work.   
This time he wanted to be sure not to let Anna hurry up things like Saga did.  
Their life has been a continuous journey since leaving Denmark.   
Henrik missed his house, was tired of untasty restaurants, fast food menù, heated meals prepared by caring and well meant women.  
After years spent in monotonous routine Astrid appeared out of nothing and soon it was hospitals, visiting hours, running errands, buying things, signing papers to register her back in her country.  
He hated bureaucracy after the endless questions he was asked.   
And soon he'd start again with Anna.  
Hard to admit how much he leaned on his late wife, how many things Alice did by herself, how few time he spent taking care of his daughters.   
He was ashamed for thinking a mother could be better for the needs of two little girls. A pathetic excuse.  
How different he felt now he had them again, he had to admit himself the pain of knowing Anna was dead, the sight of her gravestone, the telling of her appendix was ten times worse than Saga aborting.  
Anna did exist, a part of his life for five years, a sequence of days and nights while he saw her grow, becoming a little girl ready for school, friends, growing goals; Anna was a human being, was his little girl and no one could ever take her place, neither a little sibling.  
He’d have to be both parents, aware Saga'd never take fully Alice's role. Nor he wanted her to. He could only hope she'd support his efforts to build their own peculiar family.  
In Burmol the girls left with Ulla to meet her daughter for an afternoon snack and Saga got busy with Jorgen and the special team who invaded the small station, so Henrik went for a walk: the more he walked, the better for his leg.   
The village was indeed small for his city standards.   
Few shops along the main road, the post office, a two floor building with medical practices, a bank.  
He reached the school yard and walked to the church beside it.  
He pushed the heavy door; it was small inside, smaller than his first impression form outside.   
Seven row of seats each side of the aisle, crystal lamps beside the altar, window glasses open to the external darkness, impossible to define their colours.  
Henrik moved toward the altar, staring at the simply wooden cross over it.  
He felt he had carried the weight of a real cross on his shoulders for so long, it moulded his body and never let him breathe.   
Now that he was free, it felt like floating, moving with nothing that grounded him to the earth.   
He stopped when a pendulum stroked the hours.  
Five.  
A stroke for each of them.  
Himself.  
Astrid.  
Anna.  
Saga.  
Alice.  
Alice, lost forever.  
This incredible joy to have his daughters back had made him forget their mother.  
He remembered a modern church, his formal dark suit, a rose in his lapel, looking at the guests gathered, waiting for the bride.   
Alice appeared in a cascade of white at her father's arm, she choose the tradition, everything a classic wedding implied.  
Young, both too young, vibrant and happy and the world open for them.  
It was July, warm and sunny, everything was perfect as Alice wanted.  
But what did he want? Did he know what a marriage meant?  
The implications? The duties? The difficulties?   
Too young.  
Now he knew, they both tried, but it wasn't enough.   
He whispered the prayer for the dead for his late wife, then sat on a bench, the silence was pleasant after frantic days.   
Looking at a painting of Jesus over the pulpito, with open arms to accept everybody, Henirk asked the gift of strength for himself, prayed to become a better father, a better man.   
When a rush of cold air reached his shoulders he didn't turn.  
Light steps approached, a familiar scent. Saga sat near him.  
“How did you find me?”   
“Jonas saw you leaving, walking this way. There are traces in the virgin snow.”  
“Do you believe in God?”   
“Religion is a sovrastructure.”   
“Not religion, God. Pure essence.”   
“God cannot be proved.”  
“I know. I think someone is up above. Watching us.”   
“Can he bring justice?”  
“Maybe he should. He brought me peace.”  
Saga looked at the cross, how heavvy hers had also been, Henrik thought.


	10. Chapter 10

CH 10

As usual, no copyright infringements. 

We are all in the same room at the first floor of the station, four camp beds are made, Ulla and Jorgen's wife have prepared us dinner, we heat it in the microwave.  
Dad eats two spoons of the soup, then declares his cooking is better and he will spoil all of us when we'll be back home. We go to bed, it is difficult to sleep, Astrid asks dad a bedtime story, like when we were little. His memory doesn't betray him and his voice soothes my fears. It's Saga who go first, long before the story ends, I notice she sleeps and dad tenderly pull the cover over her shoulders.  
He's so sweet with her, so caring I ask him if he is in love with her more than with mom.  
He looks at me and says he has no answer; it's a different kind of love, he explains. Love changes during the years and during the life of a person.  
The only things that matters for him is that he loved mom and now loves Saga.  
And he loves and cherishes us.  
With this confirmation, I close my eyes for the night.  
My dreams are confused and dark, I wake up, Astrid's phone says it's around six and I hear water running in the bathroom.  
Dad returns and see the screen light, he bends over my bed.  
“Try to sleep some more.”  
“I can't.”  
“I' sure you can, relax and think soon we’ll be home for real.”  
Next thing I remember Saga calls my name, she's fully dressed, a mug of coffee in hand. We got ready and leave in a police van, few kilometers that seems one hundred, we stop at the intersection and wait.  
I hear shots, sirenes, an helicopter above us, until the radio gives free way.  
The van starts, the last part of my voyage here. There is smoke from a window of the third cabin, the frame is dark, burned. My nostrils fill with smell of wood and petrol. There is police everywhere, I count ten man with special uniforms.  
Astrid refuses to leave the van, she closes her eyes, repeating a word only, Frank. Dad hugs her, Saga asks the driver to look after her.  
I lead the way, dad a step behind me, Saga joins Mads who's discussing with the special unit commander. I stop near the entrance of my former cabin, turning to dad, asking if we can enter now.  
He gets Mads' approval and he hold my hand while we climb the steps.  
Everything is as I left, Ole barely washed a few glasses and piled the pans in the sink.  
Smell of cheap alcohol, dad points at a broken bottle near the bedroom door. The only strange thing are my books, all fallen from the shelf, like somebody wiped them off.  
Saga's at my side now, scanning around.  
“Where's your room?” She asks me.  
“I'll show you.”  
I head for the tent that hides the basement stairs. Dad goes first, to protect us, than me, Saga follows.  
They automatically control nobody is there, hidden in the half darkness.  
I lit the bulb on, the generator still able to produce electricity.  
My room is hollow and ugly, it contains the narrow bed I used to sleep on, a chair, a bowel on the floor, a suspended wire to hung my few clothes.  
Dad touches my dirty pillow, he's so quiet, almost reverent in his exploration. He goes to the chair and takes the shirt I left here, holding the garment to his chest and inhaling the scent. I want to stop him, it sure smells like hell, I know the difference now that I'm clean, now that I take two showers a day with the berries scented shower gel Saga bought for me at the store.  
I wanted to smell sweet, like Astrid, like dad, traces of pine and something like vanilla. I asked Saga to get herself a perfume. I vaguely remembered my mother's scent and I wanted Saga to smell good, too. She tried all the brands on display. We read the names, eau de toilette, eau de parfum, Dad said French is the languages of perfumes, Saga explained us the people who create them are experts who can recognize hundreds of fragrances with their nose only.  
Saga choose one with the scent of fresh fruits, saying she never used a perfume before. Dad smiled lovingly.  
Suddenly behind me I hear Saga has difficulties in breathing, the air is too few, I know, I tell her to go to the stairs to get more oxygen. My own head is spinning for the smell of smoke from the burned cabin.  
My sleeve get trapped in the door knob, I pull and the fabric give way. It's just an old cardigan from Jorgen's daughter – dad wants to buy everything new for me – and it tear something open inside me.  
I give a kick to the door, the sound echoes between the basement walls. Dad looks at me, worried I hurt myself.  
“It is just the door.”  
I tell him and repeat the kick. It's good to do so, I want to destroy that damned door.  
Frantic kicks until my ankle aches. I stop and go upstairs, wanting to never turn back, but I hear sobs and a muffled cry.  
Saga's looking at the dusted calendar on the wall, greasy by anonymous fingerprints.  
She seems transfixed by it, her sobs increase in intensity.  
Dad moves closer and she push him away with her arm violently.  
“Saga, look at me.”  
He grabs her arm, not caring when she slaps him in the face.  
“Let me go!” she rattles out. “ I have to go to Jennifer. Dad.Dad!”  
“No, it's an attack. Calm down, look at me.”  
She repeats the name Jennifer again and again.  
I'm petrified, I don’t know what to do. I call Saga's name. Dad turns to me.  
“Go call Mads and the doctor!”, he orders me, hugging Saga from behind. She fights, he doesn't let her go, resisting her kicks in the legs, one is close to his wound and makes him flinch for the pain.  
“Go!” he shouts at me.  
When I'm back with help, Saga is breathing better, sat in dad's lap; he rubs her back to soothe her.  
The doctor gives Saga drops from his bag, then he and dad lead her to the van.  
I ask Mads if I can take something with me.  
“What do you want? We need proofs, so I don't know if I can let you...”  
“The books.” I show him the shelf; he nods and grabs them heading for the door. I follow him, leaving this place for ever. 

_______

Mads was merciful in letting the Sabroes leave Burmol after the identifications and the preliminary report.  
Saga was in need of a quiet evening and Henrik decided to return to Mad's house, not caring the distance.  
The drive relaxed Henrik, after a tiring and exhausting day at the cabins and then at the police station. He was at peace with himself, his daughters asleep in the back seat under a plaid, Saga dozing on and off beside him.  
She twice tried to speak and her words were confused, like when she asked him to wake her up once they were on the other side of the bridge.  
He smiled and patted her arm. The effect of the tranquillizer would end soon.  
He had to force himself not to look back every minute to assess the girls. So many times they had been there in his imagination, he was afraid to live again in his nightmare.  
Henrik was a little sorry to wake everybody up when they arrived in Umea. Saga refused his arm to climb the stairs, but in the living area she sat heavily on the couch and let Henrik lift her legs up, took off her shoes and place a pillow behind her head.  
Ingrid had left food in the oven, Henrik served four portions of steaming lasagne and before going to watch television in their room Astrid took an apple and Anna some biscuits.  
Saga gave Henrik her plate and relaxed again on the couch.  
After cleaning, she noticed he was pacing the room nervously, like when he was getting clean from the drugs; she was sure he was off, but he was really getting on her nerves.  
“What's bothering you?”  
“You know well.”  
She stayed silent. Dangerous grounds. He stood in front of her.  
“We need to talk about what happened in the basement. Your panic attack.”  
“It was not panic.”  
“Whatever, you went off the rails and kicked me.”  
“Not my intention.”  
“I know. The place triggered something in your memory. When I was hugging you, you called your sister's name and wanted your father.”  
“I don't want to talk about it.”  
“We better do it. No more secrets in this family. I want to help you, trust me.”  
His eyes expressed his feelings more than his words, she could see he'd not run away, letting her down again.  
A long sigh.  
“Do you remember the basement at the Johanson’s? There was light there, a window. Astrid's and mine were dark. My mother kept me in our basement for hours when she went to work. I was five when she started. It was cold and humid, she took off my clothes and I was there in my panties only. My teeth rattled. I started closing up my mind, so I was not there. I was strong, no illnesses, so I think she got pregnant again to have somebody else to torture.”  
Her gaze was on the opposite window so she didn't see Henrik's face during her tale, the way he reacted while a flood of emotions run over his features.  
Saga neither noticed he sat beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders.  
“She started early with Jennifer, earlier than with me, to be sure Jennifer was under her paws, especially after I started school and my father had a new work.”  
Henrik moved closer little by little, his hand slowly caressing her neck. She was so tensed her muscles were hard like stones, so he started rubbing her upper back, making small circles.  
“What did he do for a living?” he murmured, not to scare her, wanting to make the moment last, to understand her past and let her share with him the burden.  
Henrik was sure he could really help her, because he felt more at ease with his own tragedies.  
He already met a therapyst for Astrid girls and himself, hoping Saga would continue hers.  
“He was a salesman and became area leader. He was away often four nights a week.”  
“And he didn’t notice?”  
“She told him we were liars, ungrateful kids, especially me. She wanted to send me to a special school, pretending I was mentally disturbed. I did a QI test, scored top and my teachers opposed.”  
“How did she get the drugs?”  
“She worked in a nursing home for the elders. I suppose she stole them. When it started, Jennifer was in hospital every other month. I had no power to stop. It lasted for years.”  
A tear fell on Henrik's hand. He passed his other arm around Saga, pulling her closer, her back to his front, like the night at the train tracks. She leaned into him.  
“I had to find a way, I talked with a teacher whose husband was a lawyer. He discussed the case for free. I thought I've saved my sister. I really hoped.”  
Her tears become sobs, painful and heartbreaking.  
They had enough pain and grief for a lifetime, he wanted Saga to be happier, to cross her own bridge and leave her past behind.  
He let her cry for a while then his hand caressed her face.  
“Stop now, it's over, the past is past, we have to put our demons to rest and start living again.”  
“I thought all would be over when I went away.”  
“It isn't so fast. Healing is a long process. Two weeks aren't enough.”  
She nodded.  
“What did you do while away?”  
“I drove a lot, visited places, was always in motion.”  
“Was it what you wanted to do?”  
“I don't know. I was compelled to move, every day, in the end my head was spinning. I stopped in Amsterdam, paid the hotel in advance for three days so I had to stay there. “  
Henrik feared it was too soon for Saga to overcome all her fears, like she wanted to gulp a bottle of a medicine in one single gesture. Sure she knew it was not the best way to deal with traumas, but knowing it and applying to herself was a different matter. .  
The night she told him she was leaving she appeared scared like a little girl. He feared it was a wrong idea, but how he could have stopped Saga when he was so wrapped up with Astrid immediately after the shooting? What could he offer Saga then? Few minutes a day, fast rounds in bed, some night calls, always in a hurry, because a recovering Astrid needed him?  
In less than a month their life had turned upside down, twice; they needed time to heal, together, the idea to be parted was unbearable for Henrik.  
He was tender in holding her, to transmit reassurance with his body; she accepted him without complains.  
“How did you imagined the trip when you left?”  
“I thought I'd found easily what I wanted to become, now I don't know if I was right in leaving police.”  
“You're a great detective, the best I ever met. Police suits you, more than me.”  
“You're good, too.”  
“I was better with pills; hard to admit, my case rate topped since I started them. I wonder what to do about work and the girls, I need to stay with them.”  
“I'll see my therapyst again. Going away is not the solution for me. And I left you…I missed you.”  
At first Henrik thought the words were from his subconscious, not from her mouth, such was the desire he had to hear them, after two years. But Saga was talking with him, calling his name, to get him back from his reverie. He turned his head to face her.  
“I'm glad to hear it. Let's go to bed now. Tomorrow will be difficult for the interrogations, then we'll go home.”  
“I haven’t got an apartment.”  
“You can stay with us for how long you want.”  
“Are you sure?”  
He nodded and his head moved closer.  
“The girls need you, I need you and I love you.”  
She closed the short distance and gave him a kiss, sweet and tender, without lust or desire. A kiss that promised something deeper, future, commitment, support. Love.


	11. Chapter 11

CH 11

 

Mads decided to do the interrogations in Ulea, with Jorgen's help.   
They started with the couple of the third cabin, two nostalgic hippies, who drowned in alcohol their dislike of modern society.   
Then Mads wanted Ole. The phone in his pocket when the special team captured him was the one Frank was in contact with.   
Ole was like a stone, silent like a rock, he did not answer Mads, who after a while called his vice to continue the questioning,   
Saga and Henrik were watching from monitors. Saga observed Henrik closely, fearing a Frank-like suspect could set him off balance.   
Rasmus was the talker. He had experience of people who made a deal with police so Mads did a bargain with him: info in exchange of less heavy accusations.   
With the deal quickly confirmed by the prosecutor, Rasmus started his tale. The Russians were in contact with Ole mainly, the trucks were full of legal goods, undercovering more profitable and sordid business.   
Mads’ eyes were like steel arrows into Rasmus' skin.   
His long experience as detective helped him to keep his true feelings in control.  
He was proud that after a long time behind a desk he still had the ability to do a proper interrogation.   
The fatherly part of him wanted to go directly at Rasmus’ neck when he talked about the girls they deal with.  
Mads could only barely imagine how Henrik was feeling in the other room.   
“And the girl you kept there, Astrid?”  
“I liked her, I was sorry. I never hurt a child. We had sex with them only with grown up teens.”  
“Why did she remain with you?   
“She was too young to be sold.”  
“But the plans for her?”   
“She'd be transferred in Russia as soon as she entered puberty. Ole says the younger they are, the more they are paid. “  
Henrik’s sharp fist on the wall startled Saga, concentrated on the dialogue.  
She turned to Henrik who didn't register the pain, the fast swelling of his hand, the blood from his bruised knuckles.   
His face was an inexpressive mask, he was lost in another world, consumed by rage; a vein pulsing on his temple revealed Saga his inner turmoil. He was ready to kill those man with his bare hands. Saga pushed him along the corridor to the bathroom where she opened the emergency kit.  
“I need to listen.” He protested when she cleaned the wounds.  
“I'll do it for you. Sit down and keep the ice. If fingers are broken we must go to the hospital.”  
“No, you'll fix and band it for me. I don’t want to scare the girls about doctors.”  
“Good. But you go to a pharmacy now.”  
Meanwhile Rasmus told Mads that the traffics of gold and girls gave the group enough money to support them. Mads' assistant brought him the criminal record: he was wanted in Finland for armed robbery, a shooting ensued and injured a man now living on a wheelchair.   
Ole was Swedish and accused of various rapes.   
Mads paused to discuss with Saga.   
“We miss the link with Frank.” She declared. They needed proofs or a witness against Wahlgren, Saga wanted to demonstrate Frank killed Alice after what Anna told her.   
“Wahlgren is clever, I think he planned this operation well.”  
“I'll send my it colleague John their records.”  
“Our IT experts are good, too.” Mads knew Saga enough to understand where to let her have her way. “Anyway, Rasmus said he don't know Frank.”  
“Do the Russians collected Anna in Malmo area then heft her there? Or was Ole the one to go south?”   
“There's also Gunnar, if Ole was wanted in Sweden he probably stayed here safe, do you feel to question him with me?” 

 

For Saga it was an effort to follow the interrogation. Her concerns were elsewhere. A new awareness, she was no more alone.  
Twenty years after Jennifer Saga had the strong impulse to take care of other human beings. It seemed strange to feel emotions for two girls she barely knew, but they had been in the peripheral part of her brain for two years now.  
She obliged Hernik to go check the girls at Mads' place and to stop in a pharmacy for the hand.   
She knew well what Martin did, she was sure Henrik had strong reasons to avoid similar risks but in her brain rose the need to protect him, so she decided to work alone with Mads instead of increasing Henrik's anger with the suspects.   
Gunnar seemed a man of few words, Mads told him they had enough evidence for the prosecutor to start a trial and Gunnar became slightly nervous.   
His record in Sweden wasn't impressive for a man around thirty, he had been condemned for thief but he was a loner, keeping a low profile, never getting into gangs.  
“You're from Goteborg, why do you end up in Norrland?” Mads asked.   
“I met Rasmus in prison.”  
“You and Rasmus shared the same cabin.” Saga stated.  
“My wife throw me out. She god single custody of my son. I had no other places to go.”   
“Do you know this man?”   
Mads placed Frank's photo on the table.  
“No.”  
“Are you sure? Look at it, he gave you Anna. He was in contact with Ole.”  
Saga's phone received a photo from John, a five years old road infraction on Gunnar, still unpaid. John search had a sudden impulse with the idea that Ole couldn't have drove Anna up there.   
Saga enlarged the photo, Mads nodded in agreement.  
“You got a fine around 200 km north Malmo. We know from Ole's phone someone went South.”  
Mads decided for a pause, leaving Gunnar in the interrogation room.   
“Let's take a break while he thinks about his travels.” He told Saga with the aim to making Gunnar uncomfortable and worried what to expect next.   
Saga asked John to verify alias related to Gunnar, then she went to the kitchenette to get a cup of tea and to deal with her restlessness.   
Never it happened to her during an interrogation. Something wasn't right. It was worse than after prison, she felt subtle tremors in all the body. What if she had a panic attack in presence of the girls?   
She tried to take long breaths, like Henrik taught her.   
She had been stabbed, found out she was pregnant and the prison was like a loaded gun at her head, all factors that prepared the attack..   
The situation was 180 now but her reaction at the cabins told her she was changing again.   
For the umpteenth time she looked at her phone, results from John's search could solve the stand by. Barbara was helping John, in two they could be faster and more efficient.  
There was a text from Henrik, who was coming back.   
Immediate relief.   
How much he meant to her was evident now and she felt glad whenever they were together.   
They met at the lift and Saga checked his hand; it was swollen and purple, he let her move his fingers to see if they were broken. They sat around a desk in Mads' assistant room.   
“The ice helped a lot. The pharmacy gave me this cream to apply twice a day with a bandage.”  
The hand touch Saga, so she managed to make it last rubbing the cream; it was an antibiotic and was cold to ease the burning.   
Whenever they were in contact Henrik was happy. The hand was an excuse.   
“I don’t want to return to police.” Saga blurted out while wrapping his hand with the bandage he bought.  
“Nobody forces you.”  
“You're on leave.”   
He nodded. With Astrid he planned to take the whole summer off, with Astrid and Anna he doubted if he would work again in the near future.   
“Jonas asked me to work in Denmark, but we cannot team now they know we're involved. Your hand is done.”  
He controlled her perfect dressing.  
“What would you like to do?”  
“A sabbatical year at university. Then I'll see. I got enough savings to pay my share of domestic bills.”  
“I never meant for you to .. “  
“Two teens means a radical change. I’ll show you articles about the money parents spend for kids from birth to university. And if yours need special teachers or counselling we'll have to study a proper budget.”  
Henrik was glad she was evaluating things as if they were a family, he let her continue to quote statistics and ways to start savings for future universities, listening with a happy heart. He suggested only to invest the money from Alice's life insurance in a saving plan. She had done researches in her efficient ways because now she had people to care for. 

 

Barbara sent a mail with an attachment, Saga enlarged and printed the file, the photo was blurred but sure was Gunnar.   
A Russian passport, for a Ivan Andrianov, trucker, working for a Russian transport firm with weekly service with scandinavian countries.   
John called to tell Saga they started from the snack Henrik found, verifying it was sold only in ex Soviet Union countries.  
Lillian was sure many truckers were involved and wanted an Interpol search regarding Ole, Rasmus and Gunnar.  
Her boss called the government buildings to have a direct link with the Russian embassy. It did the trick. Gunnar had a fake passport and the firm he pretended to be employed by was completely unaware of his existence.  
Mads called Saga in the interrogation room, Henrik sat at his previous place. Mads' attack was direct.   
“We know you travelled. You can be accused for more than what you really did. Last chance to tell us all about Frank and the others related to the human traffic.”  
Faced with the proofs, Gunnar knew it was useless to resist.   
“Ok. I know Wahlgren, Ole keeps the contacts. I did the drive only once, with Anna. I met Frank, he was strange, said he had to get rid of the strongest girl. Ole don't trust Rasmus so he choose me.”  
Saga turned to the camera, how was Henrik reacting? Was it difficult for him to know the line between survival and desperation for his daughters had been Anna's strength, the trait father and daughter shared? Another thing to discuss later, another aspect to discuss in theraphy.  
Mads was worried because they had no easy ways to find the Russian trucks, they could only transmit via Interpol all the info about the case to their foreign counterparts, the possibilities the truckers would stop again at the cabins was remote.   
Saga wanted to know more about Frank and soon the pieces made the whole puzzle.  
Ole met Frank a decade earlier while attending a group for unemployed people, Frank was the coach and Ole had to attend it or get a cut of his social wage.  
Frank visibly fancied a woman of the group, who was married and - although with some conjugal problems she discussed with Frank - had no intentions to leave her husband.   
Frank got very angry and disappointed with her and Ole offered him to set up an aggression against the couple in exchange for a positive evaluation of Ole.   
It never happened because the couple left Stockholm for whatever reason, but Ole and Frank started to bond.   
So Ole wanted Gunnar to go south with a Russian truck to get rid Frank of a problem and Gunnar returned with Anna.  
Enough to start digging in Frank's past, to find other women he attracted, like Alice and Sofie.   
Few the choices to incriminate him for Alice's death, according to Anna’s words, enough to keep him in prison for a very long time.

_____-

 

Dad and Saga are back just before dinner time. They look exhausted, dad has his wounded hand supported by his left arm. It hurts, he says. Saga roll her eyes at him, she wanted him to have an x ray, he refused.   
We have to pack, our flight leaves tomorrow at mid morning.  
I'm happy to return home, I move around the room smiling, in a goofy dance with my sister to celebrate. Dad is silent  
“What's wrong?” I ask him   
He sits on the couch and look at us, I pull Astrid down on the carpet, Saga leans on the window frame.  
“I'm sorry girls, it had been difficult today. We questioned them, and Gunnar said things about Frank...”  
Dad cannot continue, he starts crying, I see tears running down his cheeks; I never remember him crying so much before.   
“If only I could turn back time, you'd never disappear...”  
Astrid touch dad's good hand and he grabs hers, kissing it. I stand up, looking at Saga who nods, then I prompt Astrid to follow my lead and we sit on each side of dad, so he can hugs us both.   
We remain in silence for a while, until dad lifts his head, eyes now dry, and looks at Saga. She moves closer, kneels on the carpet in front of us.   
Her words make dad smile again.  
“We're going home, nothing else matters now.”

\----------

The darkness of this house once got the best of me, deprived me of my three reasons to live, three sins took their place.   
Betrayal, lust, addiction.   
I lived in the dark for a very long time, now I see the light again.  
God listened to me, had mercy of me. I'm a different man, I can help people again, not only protecting them with my gun. It gives me satisfaction to use part of my free time for the young people at the community centre of the small church I attend now.   
My daughters come often with me, our family is a miracle and I thank the Lord every day. 

We're united like before, like it had to be from the beginning. We're sisters and our bond is again strong. She helps me to heal, my leg still fragile and weak. I'm the oldest but she's older than me, sort of, wiser, she endured things I never imagined.   
We're at school together, in the same class, dad accepted my request, I don't care to repeat a year, I want to be with her, always. 

I have my own space here, my shelves, my closet, my nightstand, my bathroom cabinet, my parking space.  
I mark on the kitchen calendar my schedule so he knows when to prepare dinner.   
I arrive on time, always.  
Well, not always, sometimes a lesson ends a little late, sometimes I stop at a store on my way home and buy small gifts for my girls. Astrid draws, Anna is into photography. Memory cards are never enough.   
He forgive me, always, keeps the food in the oven to eat together.   
Every other Sunday I decide what we do, making a program in advance: the girls need to improve their culture, to visit museums, go to theatre and concerts, attend lectures for teenagers.   
The remaining Sundays he decides, we can stay home and relax, visit his parents, have a walk or go to the beach. A fifty fifty agreement that suits all of us.  
My life is neat and quiet and I feel at ease in this family. 

 

We are officially a couple, we registered our domestic partnership and now share the same address.   
We agreed for the girls, to give them a feeling of stability, not to define ourselves..  
We don't need a marriage, promises are in our silences and our looks, in how we need each other, we're sure of this. We’re no more active detectives, for now, one teaching at the academy, one studying at university, but we're together every morning, evening, night.  
Talking and listening, giving and taking, learning and exploring, in passion and tenderness. Together. 

THANKS


End file.
